Into the Dragon's Heart
by alygdgrl
Summary: After unwittingly saving Harry Potter's life, Draco Malfoy is forced to deal with the consequences of his actions and the love that inevitably followed one fateful, frozen December day. He was not the only one willing to save a life Harry/Draco .
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter was a right down idiot. He was an unfailing inadequate version of a hero with the odd possession of annoying though prevailing charm and an un-witty amount of sheer luck. In fact, it was Draco Malfoy's opinion that Harry Potter was nothing but an unfortunate sneeze on the tip of fate's handkerchief. The fact that he was currently walking through the freezing December air biting at his frigid skin watching Harry Potter walk towards the frozen lake did nothing to help his opinion of a member of the human race who personified the appendix, a badly crafted forgotten limb that surfaced rarely as a helpful tool and more often than not as a pain in your side. The thing about Potter was, as annoying and unbelievably dumb as he acted, he still possessed something that inevitably obsessed Draco; it was like he was a bone at the end of Draco's hypothetical collar, one which Draco was stuck chasing out of stubbornness and habit.

It was precisely out of habit, in fact, that he was rooted in front of the Owelry Tower watching Potter with a firm frown set on his mouth. The air was blowing the falling snow in dizzying patterns making it hard to make out for what exactly Potter was searching. He was staring intently at the frozen water's edge and turned back to look at the castle once before casting a spell on himself and sucking in a deep breath. Out of sheer shock, Draco cried out in alarm, unwilling to believe that even someone like Potter was stupid enough to jump into, _literally_, a freezing lake. It was insane, fascinating, but insane. It was also frightening, increasingly so as the seconds turned into two minutes with still no sign of Potter resurfacing. Draco was no expert but there was no charm of which he had heard that once cast could simply allow for an individual to survive underwater in a lake below zero degrees Celsius. Such magic took much longer to conjure than whatever spell Potter had muttered.

Cold anxiety began to build under the surface, and Draco turned his head from the lake's surface to the castle's towers, calculating whether or not he had time enoughto get a professor's help before the great idiot Gryffindor, synonyms really, drowned himself or ended frozen to death. Fact was, Harry would begin suffering from hypothermia within the next couple of minutes which really wouldn't matter considering the fact that he was probably drowning at the moment. If Draco didn't act quickly, Harry was dead, not to mention the consequences watching a fellow student die without attempting a rescue would bring. As it was, if there was one thing Draco was good at, it was compartmentalizing. So, he got to work. Obviously, his panic was going to do him no good, so he pushed it to the back recess of his mind, focusing instead on getting rid of his heavy cloak and shoes. Thinking quickly, he cast a ten minute underwater breathing spell he had recently learned and cast a warming charm on his already cold skin.

He took off at a dead run, knowing in the back of his mind he looked nothing short of a maniac, and inhaled one last breath before jumping into the freezing water. Even with the warming spell, it felt like someone had taken thousands of needles and pricked his skin; it was painful and took his breath away, which thankfully did not matter with the spell he had cast but which still scared the living lights out of him. His body fought against the lack of oxygen, unused to being able to inhale water. It was excruciating to feel his lungs being filled with liquid but a look below halted him. Potter was dangling like a ragged doll, being pulled down by two creatures which looked oddly familiar, like overgrown Gryndilows. He blasted a spell at them and Accio-ed Harry to him before the creatures had time to attack. Harry's heavy clothes weighed them down and the few seconds it took to get above water felt like ages with his lungs and quickly dropping body temperature screaming at him to get moving.

In the end, he didn't know how he did it. Minutes later, through Hogwart's halls, Draco's shivering body crashed to the ground, an unconscious Harry Potter next to him. It was relatively strange to see and hear what felt like far off commotion. He turned his head sluggishly to his side and felt mild surprise at Potter's pallid face and blue lips. He didn't even know if he was breathing; attempting to reach him, Draco pulled his arm up before letting it drop heavily on the stone floor. It was too much suddenly. His eyesight was getting spotty around the edges and the only sound he heard was his chattering teeth crashing together so hard it literally hurt. His lower back felt like it was on fire, but he could feel nothing else, not the tips of his fingers, not his legs or feet. The last things he noted before he lost consciousness was the sound of running steps and the way it was suddenly much, much harder to breathe.

"Do you know what this means, Dumbledore?"

"Yes, Severus, I'm afraid so."

"If he were to set foot outside of these halls at any moment, he-"

"Do you think the news has spread already?"

"Yes, Minerva, there is no doubt. With something like this, the children could not have held their excitement. It is most unfortunate."

"What I want to know is what the great idiot-"

"Severus, I would thank you not to speak in that manner about one of my students."

"I wouldn't have to speak of him at all if he had an _ounce_ of common sense."

"Severus Snape, he is nothing but a-"

"Stop, both of you. I think Mr. Malfoy is awake," Dumbledore interrupted coming forward slowly.

Draco's head felt vaguely like an ogre had hit him with a club; it felt hollow, as if the blood rushing inside was nothing but an echo, a very painful echo, "Professor-" he began but quickly stopped, his voice coming out ragged and his breathing heavy.

"No, no, Mr. Malfoy. I think it would be best if you lay down. Madame Pomfrey will be here shortly with some potions for you to take. You did a very brave thing today," Dumbledore said kindly laying his hand gently on Draco's arm.

Then it hit him, Potter. The great, fantastic moron was the reason he was here, in the infirmary, feeling like complete and utter shit. If he wasn't dead already, Draco was going to kill him, painfully and slowly. What type of idiot jumped into a freezing lake and was stupid enough to lose his wand in creature infested waters? A Gryffindor, of course, an idiot Gryffindor with zero sense of self and no room in his tiny brain for survivalist instinct.

_Merlin, he had better be alive_, Draco thought. _If I wasted my time and risked my life only so he could die, I swear that I will- I will do something extremely threatening to his person_. It was a testament to how horrible he felt that he could think of no single threat good enough to suit the situation.

Turning his head, Draco saw Harry's limp, pale body lying unconscious, "Is Potter-"

"Mr. Potter is going to be fine, Mr. Malfoy. Of course he will lose Gryffindor no less than fifty points but he will ultimately be okay," Professor McGonagall assured him and Draco couldn't help but smile a little. If it took near self inflicted death for the faculty to see Potter's infuriating idiocy than Draco was no one to complain. It went without saying, of course, that Slytherin would gain Gryffindor's fifty lost points in recompense.

"Ah, here comes Madame Pomfrey now. We will leave you to be taken care of for the night. Be advised, however, Mr. Malfoy, that tomorrow we shall all have to have a very serious discussion about today's events," Professor Dumbledore spoke already moving away towards the doors where Madame Pomfrey was pushing a cart full of vials.

Draco watched them leave curiously, no small amount of dread making his stomach drop as Professor Snape focused his gaze on him on his way out. It was completely obvious that it wasn't just about Potter's potential suicidal sprint that they would be speaking. It had something to do with him, not Potter, if Snape's look was anything to go by. He could not figure how they would blame him for Potter's trip down to crazy town, however. Of course he didn't think for a second that Potter was trying to drown himself; he more likely than not had a stupid reason that sounded legitimate enough in his head to cause him to do what he did. Draco was sure it had to do with his tremendous fixation on being a hero not to mention a not so small dosage of the dumb pill Potter took every day by virtue of being friends with Weasley.

He was by far too tired, though, to use his brain. Come tomorrow, he would do his Slytherin best to get out of whatever situation they tried to cage him in. For once in his life, he actually was not guilty of whatever they might accuse him. He had saved Potter's life. No one could deny that and he was sure that once they got a dose of his persuasive charm, everyone would be apologizing for making some nonsensical claim about Draco's responsibility in Potter's monster size mishap. Maybe when they all calmed down and agreed with him, he could insinuate vaguely that perhaps Potter huffed his broom's wood stain too long taking him higher than his broom ever could. Or, better yet, he could put forth as a possible reason Potter suddenly growing tired of his pigmy puff hair and hideous glasses. For once, he could propose, Potter decided to be unselfish enough to save everyone the distinct displeasure of seeing his ugly mug every day and decided to go smoke some sea weed and drink some bubbles with the merpeople. With these pleasant thoughts floating through his head, Draco gratefully took the mediwitch's medicine and fell into a peaceful sleep buoyed by a pepper-up draught and a warming spell.

The next morning, Draco woke blearily through what could have easily been a cloud of smog in his head. He felt exhausted, the very idea of simply sitting up at once incredibly difficult and increasingly impossible. His tongue fell heavily against the bottom of his mouth and it was with difficulty that he swallowed only to wince in pain. Pulling a hand to his chest, Draco pushed past the discomfort and sat up against the propped pillows at that back of his bed. He was no doubt running a fever if the accumulating perspirations was anything to go by and he had a headache the size of overgrown dragon. He felt so tired that it was with ease that he allowed his eyes to close, praying that when he next woke he would no longer feel as if he had pursued battle with a rabid badger.

In fact, when he next woke, he was greeted by the welcome sight of Madame Pomfrey offering him vial after vial of medicinal potions which, though disgusting in taste, offered almost instantaneous relief. Thankfully, his throat no longer felt as if he had swallowed a large helping of jagged glass and his headache was nothing more than a vague annoyance compared to what it had been. He relished the strength in his body as he stood up, caught in surprise at the way his muscles stretched without any form of pain compared to yesterday. That idea halted his movements; he turned to his left willing Potter to be in a worst state than he simply so he could gain some sense of petty vengeance at seeing his nemesis, the very reason why he was here in the first place, thrashing in fever's prickly embrace. Of course, as always, Potter robbed him of even that particular happiness, his bed already empty and made.

"Mr. Potter left about an hour ago, Mr. Malfoy. You would be happy to know, no doubt, that he was not restored to full health thanks to Professor Snape's hasty possession of my patient. I was told to tell you that as soon as you woke, you should make your way to Professor Dumbledore's office. The password is 'licorice wands.' Mr. Malfoy, you will do well to speak to no one before you speak with the Headmaster. It is of the utmost importance," Madame Pomfrey regarded him kindly with a wary gaze.

"Why can I not speak with anyone?" Draco asked suspiciously, dread pooling at the bottom of his stomach remembering Snape's look from the previous night.

"That is not for me to say, I'm afraid. Hurry along now. Everything will be fine as long as you follow Professor Dumbledore's instructions. If you feel any discomfort later on, you should come back here, and I will see what I can do for you, dear."

Draco nodded and turned to walk away. That was strange to say the least. Though Madame Pomfrey was a nice woman, she was not one to fully sympathize with her patients, more likely than not because of the silly nature of their injuries, so perhaps her behavior towards him could be explained due to the seriousness of the situation. The thing was, the woman didn't like him. It was a fact that he could neither deny nor fault her for considering the derisive manner in which he engaged with her every time that he came into her infirmary. Draco was more than aware about the annoying way in which he complained when he was hurt; it was a fact of his very nature that he hated to be hurt, so that although it irritated him to have that particular trait, it was not something he felt he could help in a situation when personal harm was done to him. So, as he moved through the nearly empty halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Draco felt dread turn into worry as he met the hostile eyes of some of his fellow Slytherins.

He hurried his gait until he stood affront the gargoyle statue and uttered the password quickly, taking shelter in the winding staircase as it carried him towards Dumbledore's office. He knocked twice, his thoughts a jumble of half formed thoughts, trying to understand the looks in his cohorts' eyes, and walked in after Dumbledore invited him in. The Headmaster was seated behind his desk facing Potter on a seat across from him. Next to him, Professor Snape stood with his back to the door staring into the fire.

"Hello, Draco. How are you feeling?" Professor Dumbledore asked from his seat, pushing forward a candy dish full of lemon drops. "Would you care for one?"

"No, thank you. I'm feeling alright, a little sore, but I imagine that is to be expected when one jumps into a freezing lake," Draco said with a bite looking at Harry for a moment before focusing on Dumbledore once again, "Professor, what exactly am I doing here?"

Dumbledore took in a deep breath and exhaled, looking at Snape for a second before standing. He walked to Snape and set his hand on his shoulder, making him face the two students before he began speaking, "Draco, what you did yesterday was a very brave thing. You saved a student's life and risked your own in the process. I, the entire staff, and Harry here than you and hold you in deep regard." Draco cast Harry a look of pure incredulity but nodded anyway. "As it is, Mr. Malfoy, I am afraid that not everyone feels this way."

"What do you mean? How could anyone be angry at me for saving Potter from an incredibly dumb set of actions?" Draco asked scathingly.

"Malfoy, no one asked you to jump into the bloody lake after me," Harry said glaring at him from his seat.

"Oh, yes, perfect way to address me, Potter. I saved your life, so excuse me for asking, boy wonder, just where the bloody hell would you be if I hadn't jumped in after you and saved you from a sodding set of creatures which were going to take you for themselves and probably eat you after your flesh started rotting."

Harry stood up, "Look here, ferret face, I would have managed to-"

"Managed to what, Potter, blow the last of you oxygen in their faces? Scare them away with your hideous glasses and badly-in-need-of-garden-shears hair? Maybe you could have thrown your cloak at them. I mean seriously, Potter, what kind of an idiot doesn't think about the weight of clothes when you're going to go for a little swim in a freezing fucking lake?" Draco let out, irrationally angry that Potter couldn't see beyond the measure of his own stupid bubble to realize that without him, he would be at the bottom of the lake playing the part of a soaked rag doll.

"Shut up, you ugly-"

"That is enough, Potter," Snape halted him with a cold voice threaded with lead.

"Did you honestly not hear what he just said-"

Snape halted him with a raised hand, "I did in fact just hear what my snake just said, Mr. Potter, and I am more than apt to agree with everything that just came out of his mouth. If it had not been for your obvious lack of judgment, he would not have been forced to jump in at the risk of his own life to save yours. If I may be so bold, Potter, you should be thanking Mr. Malfoy rather than acting like an immature child unwilling to admit his own weakness."

"I believe Mr. Potter gets the point, Severus," Dumbledore stopped the head of Slytherin with a disapproving look. "I think that it is best if we all keep our cool for the next hour and did not allow our mouths to get away from our minds. That is not a suggestion, gentlemen. Now, I believe it is time to get past this petty argument to the heart of why we are here."

"What exactly is that, Professor?" Draco asked though his eyes were still glaring at Harry.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and pointed at the chair next to Harry and moved once again to sit behind his desk, "I think it best for you to sit down while we discuss this." He waited for Draco to take his seat before he continued. "Like I was saying, though every person in this room thanks you for what you have done, not everyone in this school, or I'm afraid, outside of these walls feels that way."

"Alright, so some people out there also feel offense at having to see Potter's ugly mug, what does that have to do with me?"

"Five points from Slytherin and five points from Gryffindor," Dumbledore stated casting a warning glance at Harry's already open mouth. "Gentlemen, behave or I will put silencing charms of both of you. This is serious business and pertains to your very well being."

Draco sat up straight casting a questioning glance at his head of house, "What do you mean my very well being?"

"Mr. Malfoy, I say this not as a means to insult you or provoke an argument but instead as a means to further this discussion. It is clear to everyone in this room what your father's political views are and where his deep seated allegiances lie."

"What does my father have anything to do with this?" Draco asked putting up mental blocks, willing them to be strong enough to withstand the world's greatest legilimens.

Dumbledore put up a placating hand and continued, "Your father has nothing more to do with this than where his actions have brought him. Mr. Malfoy, can you think of no one who would desire above all else Harry's demise?"

"The Dark Lord, what-" Draco began with a furrowed brow.

"You have saved Potter's life, Draco," Snape said, seating him with a steely gaze, willing him to comprehend.

"_No_," Draco let out, the breath in his chest suddenly missing.

"I'm afraid, Mr. Malfoy, that news around these walls spread far more quickly than I was able to stop."

Draco turned his horrified gaze upon Snape, "He wants me dead?"

"I'm afraid, Draco, that would be an infinite understatement."

"Was my father punished, Professor? Is he okay? Where is mother?" Draco cried out in full out panic, his mind going to the worst possible scenarios, vision of his dead, tortured parents swimming in front of his eyes.

Dumbledore stopped him quickly and answered, "Your family is safe for the moment. The Dark Lord was very displeased with your father, but did nothing more than what he has done before. Your mother is in your home in Malfoy Manor, not being allowed contact with anyone outside said walls. If your mother's life is threatened, Mr. Malfoy, we are ready to seek her out and offer her safety."

Draco swallowed, "My mother, but of course not my father, am I correct?"

"Draco, would you offer your father allegiance were he anybody else?" Snape asked his student with no form of pity in his voice.

Draco nodded, thankful that there was someone here who he could understand. Cold logic he could deal with; it was a rock that solidified and weighed down his thoughts which were quickly reeling out of control. He did not need to look in Potter's direction to know what he would find there, unwanted sympathy and gallons of guilt there enough to flood the entire continent, "What does that mean for me, Professor?"

"If you would allow me to, I think that it would be best for me to answer that," Dumbledore interceded. "Whether you would have chosen this path or not, Mr. Malfoy, you have joined the light by virtue of being excluded from the dark. I would advise you be aware of the imminent death you would face were you to try to reach the Dark Lord. He is not a man of forgiveness as I am sure you know. Though only sixteen, I must now treat you like a man Draco, because you have no choice but to deal with what will occur as a man. For this, I apologize. Before we continue, however, I must ask from you to partake in an Unbreakable Vow."

Draco stood pushing his chair back, "I haven't agreed to anything."

"Draco, if you don't agree to this, you're dead. Take your pick," Snape said.

"Draco-"

"No, Potter. I'm still Malfoy to you. This changes nothing," he answered fiercely but grabbed Dumbledore's outstretched hand and nodded to Snape who pulled out his wand and completed the process. It was as if he heard nothing of what Dumbledore said and said nothing in return as his vow. His mind was blank, unsure of what the hell to think if to think at all.

"Thank you, Draco. Now that we have gotten that out of the way, why don't you take a seat. I think this is going to take a while," Dumbledore paused while Draco sat. "Alright, we are going to be feeding you a lot of information very quickly, but I believe that it is only for your benefit. I would like to just remind you that if any of this information were to leave your lips for any reason whatsoever, you would forfeit your life."

"Professor, you said you would treat me as a man not but two minutes ago. If you cannot do that, then please at least treat me like a pureblood and a Slytherin. I am not stupid. I know what I have just done, so please spare me the warning, and know that whatever you think you have to tell me, I already know," Draco said coldly very much aware of the poison weighed into his voice.

Dumbledore regarded him for a moment and was gracious enough to mask his pity, "Of course, Draco. I apologize. To begin, Professor Snape is a spy for us, us being the Order of the Phoenix, a group dedicated to protecting humanity from the Dark Lord's vastly growing threat, and one which you will become intimately involved with as we work to secure your safety. I tell you this so that you may have some confidence that there will be at least one person you know to guide you through the first few months as you become accustomed to what is to come. Professor Snape will also be able to bring you news of your father whenever you choose to ask, though I must warn you to be wise. If the Dark Lord were to see you too often in Professor Snape's thoughts, it could mean disaster not only for the Order and Professor Snape but also your father."

Draco masked his utter surprise at this new information, saved it until he had time to mentally digest it, and nodded pulling his mouth into a thin line, "I understand."

"Good," Snape said, "Then I trust you comprehend what this will mean for the rest of your House."

"I can no longer live with them," Draco stated, not as a question but a statement.

"Exactly."

"Am I to be removed from Hogwarts?" Draco turned his attention to the Headmaster.

Dumbledore looked down sadly but smiled, "No, no, my dear boy. We would not dream to do that to you. What you have done is noble, and you will not be punished for it. At least, we will do our utmost for that to be your reality."

"No, Draco, you will remain at Hogwarts but your rooms will be removed to a remote and magically hidden part of the castle. You know that as of now you can trust no one, and I will be looking to you to show a certain sense of maturity when dealing with your peers. You know exactly what this means, so I will not waste my breath but to tell you that you are alone. You will no longer be able to act as a petty prince, because your servants will turn on you. Am I understood?" Snape asked coming forward to speak directly into Draco's face.

"Perfectly."

"We do not know what lengths the Dark Lord is willing to go to reach you, Draco. So, we have no way of knowing which Death Eaters will be assigned to the task of getting you nor how far any of them would be willing to go to reach higher in his ranks," said Dumbledore.

"That means that you also don't know which Slytherins will be after me," Draco said looking down.

"What? You mean that some of the students would try to hurt you?" Harry asked suddenly, quiet until this point.

Draco shook his head and let out a dry bark of laughter, "Hurt me? Oh, you have got to be kidding. Of course they will attempt to hurt me. What lies in question is which family is going to try to murder me first."

"Murder?" Harry said breathlessly. "But surely none of them would attempt something like that within Hogwarts' walls."

Snape snorted and opened his mouth, "Potter, keep up. How many of the Slytherins are somehow involved with the Dark Lord? Let me answer that for your infinitely tiny brain, the majority. Out of those, I would approximate a handful already to carry the Dark Mark with at least half of them waiting for permission to join the ranks. Killing Malfoy would mean gaining stature in the Dark Lord's eyes, almost as much as killing you."

"But no one has tried to kill me yet," said Harry.

"No, but that only makes sense," Dumbledore said. "Think about it, Harry, while within Hogwarts' walls, you are protected by every member of the staff, myself included, as well as Hogwarts' very walls. Have you not ever felt it? Has the castle never done certain things for you that it will not do for any of your peers, created a hidden corridor for you or opportunely changed staircase directions when you were running late? For whatever reason, the castle knows that you are important and has used its own magic to protect you. As for your food, no member outside of Gryffindor can get close enough to your plate without seeming suspicious and you being alerted, so they have not been able to poison you."

"But that doesn't stand in their way with Malfoy, correct?" asked Harry turning to look at the pallid Slytherin.

"No it will not, which is why Professor Dumbledore and I have decided that up until a time that we can somehow guarantee the absolute safety of your meals and your person, you will have to eat in your personal quarters," Snape addressed Draco.

"What about my classes?" asked Draco.

"We haven't gotten that far yet, Draco. We thought it best to wait for you to decide. I wanted to hear your thoughts before we moved in any direction regarding your education," said Dumbledore.

Draco shook his head, "If you leave me in a room full of Slytherins, something will happen, inevitably. They will band together, find a way to distract the person monitoring the class and get to me. The older students especially, my class members and the seventh years, will feel increasing pressure from their parents to produce some results which means that though they may begin carefully, they will get more and more dangerous at time goes on. No, if I am in class with them, I am as a good as dead."

"Alright," Dumbledore nodded. "I will ask Professor McGonagall to switch your time tables, so that we may avoid such a situation as you have described."

"Professor, you would do well to cast spells which alert you to the use of Polyjuice Potion. Also, I would think it best if you were especially careful of the younger children. They will be pawns in all of this, and I imagine the Dark Lord will have no regrets in using them to pursue his cause. I do not know how, but I can almost guarantee that they will somehow be used. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will no doubt not expect you to think that he would sink so far as to use innocent children against me," Draco told Dumbledore sinking into his chair.

Alarm overtook Dumbledore's face and he turned to look at Snape to support the validity of Draco's words. When Snape nodded, Dumbledore fixed Draco with his gaze, "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. I'm actually quite sure that I would not have thought of that until it was too late. It seems that you are already invaluable to us."

"Please, don't-"

"Professor, is there any way that I can be of use?" asked Harry hesitantly from his spot.

Dumbledore looked at him with a smile and nodded, "As a matter of fact, Harry, I have a great favor to ask of you, one which I beg you to see the wisdom of. No matter how hard we may try, there will be moments when Mr. Malfoy will be left alone, moments which will be instrumental for the plans of any member within these walls wishing him harm. It is in these moments that Draco will need a friend, at least one friend who will be there to watch his back."

"No way," said Draco immediately.

"Draco, do not be an idiot," Snape stopped him. "Think about it, and I mean seriously use your head. Everything Professor Dumbledore has said is true, and you know it, so keep your stubbornness at bay and use at least a little bit of cunning. Who will be there to support you when a surprise attack is issued into effect? No one, if not someone from the light. I cannot be there with you every single minute of the day, nor can any of the faculty, no matter how hard we strive to never let you out of our sights. If we hypothetically leave out every member of the faculty, who do you expect to come to your aid? You have no friends in any of the other houses. There is no one."

"That's not it, at least not all of it. Sure I would hate to see Potter's demonic hair-do every day, but that is the least of my worries. If word gets to the Dark Lord that Lucius Malfoy's son is gallivanting with his greatest enemy, what do you think that will mean for Father? I will not be the reason for his demise."

"Your father, Draco, took four hours of torture at the hands of Death Eaters for you, for _you_, without complain and without apology to anyone but the Dark Lord when he was seconds away from killing him. You are his son and he loves you. He was willing to die for you, is willing to die for you if it means that you will be safe, so do not be an idiot about this. He would not thank you for rushing head long into death's grasp if you can prevent it. He would expect much better of you," Snape told him with no room for argument I his voice.

"He would also not thank me for giving the Dark Lord continued reason to torture him. I have no doubt already destroyed his reputation and took away his advantage amongst the other Death Eaters. I cannot-"

"You will do everything in your power to keep alive," Snape rang out with such authority that everyone in the room stood immobilized. "Am I understood? I spoke with your father before coming here, and he made me promise to do everything in my power to keep you safe, so you will stop this idiocy and act like the Malfoy that you are." He lowered his voice and bit out persuasively, "Think about it, Draco? Think of your father. He is no mere pawn in the Dark Lord's game. He is instrumental, because of his connections. You know this, your father knows it, and so does the Dark Lord. Your father will exploit that fact and take care of himself. If anything were to happen to your mother, members of the Order would be ready to get her within seconds. Your father will play his part, and no one can know how it will all come out in the end, but he will do what is best for now. He expects you to play yours."

Draco allowed his face to sink into his hands, pushing the heels against his eyes, and took a deep breath, "Alright. What are we to do?"

"Harry, you too agree to this?" Dumbledore asked Harry more out of courtesy than anything else, already knowing his answer.

"Yes, Professor," Harry nodded though his eyes were focused on Draco.

"Very good. Like you heard, we cannot assure Draco's safety at every moment of every day. It is in this that I must ask for the help of you and your friends. I expect you to speak with them, reason with them, and ultimately get their help in assuring Draco's safety. You must make it clear to your group of close friends that if they were to say no to this request, a life of a member of their class would be put at mortal risk."

"Alright," said Harry. "Once I have done that, what are we to do?"

"You are to watch his back, Harry, every moment that you possibly can. Do not allow members of Slytherin to get too close to him, no matter what they say their intentions are. Draco, do you have anyone whom you think you can trust?" asked Dumbledore.

Draco's answer was immediate, "No."

"Very well, then. You heard him, Harry, allow _no one _from Slytherin to reach him when a staff member is not close enough to prevent anything from happening. I ask not for friendship at this inopportune moment but request only that you show civility towards one another. It cannot be said enough, Harry, Draco saved your life. Are you willing to save his?"

Harry's answer was as immediate as Draco's had previously been, "Yes."

"Thank you, Harry," said Dumbledore.

"Will we share the same classes, then?" Harry asked him.

Dumbledore looked to regard Professor Snape, "I think under the current conditions that would be best. Don't you, Severus?"

"That seems like a fair course of action."

"Great, it's settled then. We will try our best to match your schedules for all of the classes you do not share with Slytherin. The others you shall attend with Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs depending on your courses. During these, I will make personally accountable that you have a staff member with you at all times."

"So, I will have classes with the Ravenclaws," Draco considered. "That seems fair."

"Or the Hufflepuffs," said Harry.

Draco narrowed his eyes, "Potter, please use an ounce of intellect and get a better prescription, perhaps a better frame of glasses while you're at it, there are no classes which I take that a complete set of Hufflepuffs would take. All the classes I take are advanced, so please don't be an idiot."

"Malfoy, don't start, you great-"

"Oh shut up, you baboon. You have the intelligence of a twig, a particularly ugly and deformed one, so why don't you just-"

"That is enough," Dubledore stopped them. "How do you expect this to work if you cannot respect each other within the confines of my office let alone the real world? Severus, do desist," Dumbledore ordered, making Snape's smirk slowly leave his face.

Harry took a deep breath and nodded, "I'm sorry, Malfoy."

"Good," Draco said and frowned as Dubledore's steely gaze settled on him, "I also apologize."

Harry gave him a small smile and said, "No problem."

"Unbelievable," muttered Draco under his breath, unwilling to believe that someone would be so daft as to simply drop a good argument just like that.

"Great, now you two and I will wait here, and Professor Snape will go and prepare your new rooms for you, alright?" Dumbledore asked them settling further into his chair with a smile on his face.

"They're always like this," said Snape, moving towards the door. "Ridiculously optimistic and annoying beyond belief. You will do well to get used to it."

All three watched as the door close behind his back and sat in silence until Harry cleared his throat and hesitantly looked at Draco, "Thank you, Malfoy, for saving my life."

Malfoy could do nothing else but roll his eyes at the utter softness in Potter's voice. It was a heady sense of power that washed over him at hearing such vulnerability from his enemy, but he focused instead on cutting what was promising to be an embarrassing and irritating show of Gryffindor behavior, "Don't know why I did it. Now I am going to be driven slowly insane with want to take a bottle of pig grease and a carving pick at that terrible mess on your head."

Dumbledore smiled, "I am truly glad that you can make light of such a horrible situation, Mr. Malfoy."

For the first time since walking into the Headmaster's office, Draco's face lit up with something more than dread. He turned and made eye contact with Harry and smirked, "I was being serious."


	2. Chapter 2

"You know, this is actually kind of amazing," said Harry looking about him with a wide eyed look.

"No, Potter, this is not amazing; it is the _least _they could do in recompense for saving your bloody life. Honestly, do you have birds hidden somewhere in the extremities of that nest on your head?" asked Draco turning to glare at Harry with pure disdain.

Harry turned to him and scowled, "You know, Malfoy, you would do well to remember that you are alone in this school. You might want to try being nicer to me if you want-"

"Want what, huh? Fair payback for saving your sorry arse? Don't be an idiot," Draco returned turning away from him.

"I am not an idiot, you beastly excuse for a human being. You are but the dredge of the earth on the bottom of my shoe, so why don't you just stuff-"

"That is enough boys," interrupted Dumbledore coming out of Draco's newly cleaned and renovated bathroom.

They had waited for what seemed ages for Professor Snape to return from his search for proper rooms for Draco to live in. Their time had been spent predominantly disregarding one another with Dumbledore doing paper work, while Harry studiously tried to ignore Draco's constant glares. Were he to be honest, Draco would be forced to admit that he felt bloody awful, like the world had suddenly been swept in one foul swoop from beneath his feet. It made no sense, no matter how many times he tried to go over it in his mind. When he had reacted, no far reaching consequences had passed through his mind. He had been purely concentrated on saving Potter from imminent death to stop and think that perhaps his actions would offend one greatest evil wizard of all time.

Though he intellectually understood that no one would be expected to know what would happen, it did nothing to abate his conscience. Of course if time were reversed, he would probably do the exact same thing as he had done, even he was willing to admit that to himself. That very thought was what made it all so much worse. His father had suffered torture and his mother faced home incarceration for his actions and would be doing the same if he had to do it all over again. He didn't have it in him to be a killer. It was something that he was both fiercely proud of and of which he was vaguely embarrassed. He came from a family of vicious individuals who murdered, plundered, and exploited their way to the top of the pureblood social ladder, yet here he was saving his father's boss' worst enemy, feeling ridiculously proud even through the shame of knowing what pain he was causing his family. To say that he was conflicted would be a ridiculous understatement.

As far as Potter went, he reacted in the same way that Draco would have expected him to act, if perhaps exceedingly so. Though he ignored Draco, it was obvious that his actions were to benefit the Slytherin much rather than himself. Draco imagined that if the Gryffindor had it up to him, he would be spouting off an embarrassing tirade of gratitude that would only serve to irk both of them. So, as far as things went, Draco could do nothing else but feel grateful for Potter's newly developed tact. If nothing else, at least there was Harry's hair to shock him into a stupor filled with fascinations at such a ridiculous mess. It defied the very laws of nature and acted as great entertainment in face of such a horrible ordeal.

"So, what do you think, Mr. Malfoy?" asked Dumbledore with an expectant smile.

Draco looked about him with a small frown and said, "It will do."

"If there is anything more we can change for you just be sure to let us know. We want you to be nothing short of comfortable while you are here. Later on we can discuss the various ways to get here were you to suddenly find yourself in face of some confrontation," said Dumbledore. "Harry, if you will, I think it is time that we allow Mr. Malfoy some much afforded privacy. Come along."

"Yes, Professor," said Harry following after the older man. At the door, Harry turned around and stared at Malfoy for a second and paused before saying, "When I said thank you, I really meant it, Malfoy."

Draco rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand, "And when I say that if you stay in my presence a moment longer, I will be driven to go at you with a gallon of Madame Marina's Horrible Hair Defeater and a pair of shearing scissors, I mean it too." Harry blushed but pursed his mouth and said nothing. Without a look back, he left the room and Draco behind.

Once alone, Draco walked to his new four poster bed and allowed himself to crash face first into the mattress. This was just bloody fantastic. His father had meant for him to join the Death Eaters a couple of months from now and yet here he was, unwillingly a member of the Light, his prospects annihilated by one rash decision. He was worried, even more so than he allowed himself to show in front of Dumbledore, Potter, and Snape, though he felt like a fool for showing whatever small amount of weakness as he had already betrayed. Now, though, alone and separated from the world through a thick set of powerful spells, Draco allowed the cold panic he had been feeling since entering Dumbledore's office bubble to the surface.

What the fuck was he going to do? The Slytherins were sure to be plotting menial ways to destroy his every means of happiness while their parents made the big boy plans for his demise. Whatever anyone thought, Slytherins were a thousand times more vicious than any other member of the human race. It was both a strength and a weakness to be a part of such a house: a strength because pure cunning was the skill one developed early on to survive in the snake's pit and a weakness because once excluded from the 'friendship' of the house members, you were fresh meat for the arena waiting to be slayed. They would come for him; that was not in question. What was in questions was how long it would take them to get well enough organized to plan an attack that once put into motion would not incriminate whoever was behind it.

He was alone and more than a little freaked out. Every possible means of danger kept ruminating in his mind over and over unwilling to abate. He felt exhausted and vulnerable, which served no other purpose than make him angry. He would not go down without a fight if he went down at all. Professor Snape had been right; if his father had gone through pure hell for him, he had no other choice but to act with the same manner of composure. He would not lie down and wait for whatever was to come. He would prepare to defend himself. Though alone, he was still a Malfoy and he dared anyone to try and take that away from him.

Across the castle, Harry Potter allowed himself into the Gryffindor common room shortly after having finished a short discussion with Dumbledore. It had been made more than clear to him that the next few minutes would be instrumental in assuring Malfoy's safety. He still didn't know what in the world drove Malfoy to save him, but what was done was done, and now it was up to him to make sure that he paid back his debt in full. So, taking a determined breath, Potter put on his most charming smile and asked a small number of his friends to join him around the fire. Once all that were invited settled themselves around him, Harry cast a quick privacy spell around them and opened his mouth.

"Alright, guys, I'm going to need you to just keep your mouths shut for as long as it takes me to tell you what I have to say, alright?" asked Harry looking around him at the confused looks from all of his friends.

"Yeah, alright, Harry. Just get along with it; you're making me worry," said Seamus.

Harry nodded and looked at his hands, "Okay, this is what happened. Early yesterday, I almost drowned in the lake and there was no one around to notice save one. Malfoy was walking back to the castle from the Owelry when he saw that I was taking too long in resurfacing, so, though the bloke hates my guts, he risked his own life and jumped in after me."

"Oh, Harry, you didn't," said Hermione looking at him with worry.

Harry held up a hand and said, "No, Hermione, please don't interrupt. I know it was a stupid decision but what's done is done. I need you all to keep open minds about this, please. Like I said, Malfoy saved my life, which is what all the fuss was about when he finally got us inside the castle. Later, when I finally came to, he was still unconscious looking right a sight like a ghost on a bed next to me in the infirmary. I was taken to speak with Dumbledore who set out to lecture me and give me my punishment but who also wanted to explain something to me. Malfoy's life is in danger thanks to me."

"What do you mean Malfoy's life is in danger, mate? Sure he's a bloody prick, but that doesn't mean that-"

Harry interrupted Ron and continued, "Let me finish, okay? Because he saved my life, it kind of sent out a free for all message about his allegiance in the war."

Hermione gasped and put a hand to her mouth, "Oh, Harry, _no_."

"What? What's wrong?" asked Dean looking around the circle, uncomprehending.

"Go on, Mione. I think you have it figured out," Harry prompted knowing that his battle was already half way won if Hermione was on his side.

"What Harry is trying to say, Dean, is that because Draco saved Harry's life, the Dark Lord has seen it as a personal offense and has taken his actions as a declaration that he places himself with the Light rather than the Dark. Am I correct, Harry?" she asked.

Harry nodded, "Exactly, which is why I have a huge favor to ask from all of you."

"What type of favor?" asked Neville already looking worried.

"I need you all to help me protect Malfoy."

"Oh come off it," said Ron. "There is absolutely nothing that could happen to the prat while he's here at Hogwarts."

Harry shook his head, "That's precisely what I thought, but both you and I are wrong. Think about it. If Voldemort could get at me, he would, but he can't because of all the protection I'm afforded through the school. That doesn't apply to Malfoy. From what I understand every single Slytherin has already turned against him, urged by their families to make his life a living hell. They are orders passed down the chain of command. Voldemort if furious and has sunk low enough to ask of his Death Eaters to have their children go after Malfoy while he's here."

"What, you mean actually try to kill Malfoy?" asked Hermione.

"Yes; I know it sounds unbelievable guys, but it actually makes sense. I have you guys to stand in the way of any sort of attack from the Slytherins which means that any form of plan they put into action is nullified by the sheer amount of people looking out for me here. They aren't stupid enough to attack if they know they will fail. With Malfoy, though, he has no one, literally no one. He has no friends he can trust, no one to have his back, which will make him an easy target."

"Wait, wait, wait," interceded Ron, "What about Malfoy's dad? I'm sure that he wouldn't let anything happen to his son."

"No, he wouldn't if he had any say so," said Harry. Then in a lower voice, "You must all promise that this does not leave this circle. Good. Dumbledore was told that Malfoy was tortured for hours for what his son did and was almost killed by Voldemort himself before he was granted pardon with strict orders to do nothing to reach his son. Malfoy's mom is being held under house arrest by a set of Death Eaters and is being allowed no contact with the outside world. This is serious, you guys. Voldemort really wants Malfoy dead."

"But, Harry, you don't thing that a student would _actually_-"

"Yes, I do, Hermione. From what I understand, there is a sort of competition among the pureblood families to see who can successfully strike first and rise in Voldemort's esteem. They are going to stop at nothing to get that power and leverage such an action would bring; they are Slyterins. I think we would do well not to forget that."

"I think that is a very fair point, Harry. They _are _Slytherins, and so is Malfoy," Nevilled pointed out much to the agreement of everyone else.

"Neville, as of twenty-four hours ago, Draco Malfoy just gave up any sort of claim to Slytherin by virtue of saving my life. He can no longer sleep in his dormitory, attend classes with his housemates, or eat at their table in the Great Hall all for fear that they will attempt to kill him. All of this is happening to him because of me. So, I am reaching out to you, asking for your compassion and your friendship. If you are no capable of doing this, of helping me make sure Malfoy _survives _than I cannot blame you, but I will thank you not to stand in my way," said Harry morosely.

Hermione smiled at him and said, "Calm down, Harry. No one is saying that you have to do this alone. It was just a little bit surprising. It's a lot of information to digest so quickly. I think that everyone here is more than willing to help you with anything that we possibly can. Isn't that right?"

"I'll do it for you, mate," said Ron. "We just have to make sure that we know what we're getting ourselves into. We can't walk blindly into something that could end up with one of us dead."

Harry nodded solemnly, "No, I understand that. It's my biggest concern, and I intend to do everything in my power to make sure that all of you don't get hurt. I really do think there's safety in numbers, though, not to mention that Dumbledore has promised personally to look out for every single one of us. That's why I didn't ask Ginny to join in this, Ron. I don't want anyone to suffer for what my stupid action has caused. I'm trying to figure this all out utilizing the least amount of people as I possibly can."

"Harry," Hermione interjected softly, "Let's say that every person here agrees, and I have no doubt that they all will, how precisely does _Malfoy _feel about all of this. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't want to help him. It's more like, will he _allow _us to watch his back?"

"Well," said Harry looking around the circle, "I think that we can all agree that no matter how much of an idiot Malfoy is, he isn't stupid. Not to mention, of course, how cunning and self serving all Slytherins are. I don't for a second think that he's going to make it easy on us, but I doubt that he will make it especially hard. He wants to stay alive more than anyone else wants him to. If I were to bet on anything, I would say that Malfoy will cooperate with us as long as we don't give him too hard of a time."

Neville scoffed, "Give _him _a hard time? Harry, get real. This is Malfoy we're talking about, let's not build up any sort of delusions."

"Neville-"

"No, Harry," said Seamus, "I think Neville is right, actually. I mean, yeah, of course Malfoy is going to want us around if it means his neck isn't being served on a silver platter, but that doesn't mean that he's just going to be an idle standby while we hurl insults at him."

"Seamus has a point, Harry. I think what we're all trying to get you to agree on is that when it comes time for Malfoy to offend us, and he will, you shouldn't act surprised. Also, you shouldn't blindly take his side just because the bloke saved your life," said Dean.

Harry did a slow blink and said, "Dean, listen to the words that just came out of your mouth. _Just _because he saved my life? I owe him a debt I can never fully repay."

"Oh, great," Ron rolled his eyes.

"What?" asked Harry.

Ron pointed an accusing, though good natured, finger at him, "That is exactly what they're afraid will happen. Mate, you have a bit of a hero complex. We've discussed it, and you feel indebted to Malfoy, understandably so. That doesn't mean, however, that you should allow the ferret face to walk all over you."

"I'm not going to let him walk all over me," said Harry.

"Harry, I love you and all, but yes it does," said Hermione. "Look, you're a great guy, and you would swallow a large, rabid rodent on any given day if it meant someone would feel better, but-"

Harry narrowed his eyes at her and repeated, "A large, rabid rodent? Hermione, what-"

"What I mean, Harry, is that because you feel bad about what happened, you're more likely than not going to feel obligated to take whatever Malfoy deems to dish out. The boys are just trying to help and of course make sure that you're not going to take Malfoy's side without taking into account what Malfoy has to do with the argument," Hermione pointed out rationally.

"Guys, I would never take Malfoy's side if he were in the wrong. If it makes you feel better, though, I promise that if it ever comes down to it, I will make sure that I take everyone's opinion into account. I ask the same of you, though. Malfoy is probably going to get a reaction out of me, and I'm going to need you to talk me down when it happens, okay?" asked Harry,

"Yeah, alright," responded Ron with a small smile.

After a pause, Dean looked around them and smirked, "Does anyone else find it a little amusing that we are having a serious discussion about what and not what to do regarding Malfoy as if he's a ticking time bomb rather than just a regular person?"

"Malfoy is _not _a regular person," said Neville.

"Amen to that," answered Ron.

Early the next day, Harry was woken by a house elf and asked to join Malfoy in Dumbledore's office. When he finally made it there, he promptly wished that he had listened to his better judgment and simply stayed in bed. One look at Malfoy revealed that the other boy had not gotten any sleep and was ready to make hell because of it. As soon as Harry walked in, Malfoy's glare locked on him with an unusual dose of malice. It was all Harry could do not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze. Thankfully, Dumbledore saved him from any sort of confrontation by asking him kindly to take a seat next the Slytherin so that they may commence their meeting.

Once he was seated, Dumbledore smiled and said, "I'm sorry that I had to get you both out of bed so early. As it is, the weekend has passed and it is imperative that we come up with a plan that will keep Mr. Malfoy safe. Since we have not had a chance to clear up all the steps you must take to be safe, you will not have to attend classes today or tomorrow, Mr. Malfoy."

Malfoy nodded but frowned, "Does this mean that you have come up with some sort of plan, sir?"

"Yes, we think that we have come up with a rather inconspicuous way to keep you out of trouble. The staff and I met late yesterday and will meet again later on today to continue our discussion, but we have been able to make arrangements for your academic schedule."

"What am I to do then?"

"To begin," said Dumbledore bringing his hands together, "we have changed Defense Against the Dark Arts, Double Potions, and Runes to be your first, third, and fourth classes respectively which you will now take with the Ravenclaws. As for the rest of your classes, you will be switched to Gryffindor's time slot. Harry, I need to know, would it inconvenience you greatly if I were to ask you to shift your schedule slightly?"

Harry looked at Malfoy and then at Dumbledore with a confused look, "Umm, define slightly."

"Would you be opposed to changing Defense Against the Dark Arts and Double Potions so that Mr. Malfoy can have someone with him at those times?" asked the Head Master.

"Wait," interrupted Malfoy, "Why is that necessary? Potter doesn't take Runes, so there will be no one to protect me then. Why must you change those classes?"

"Mrs. Granger, Mr. Malfoy, I'm sure will have no problem helping make sure that you are safe while in that class."

"So, does Hermione have to change her schedule to make that happen?" asked Harry.

"Yes, Harry," answered Dumbledore.

"Oh," he looked down at his hands, "Then, I have no problem with it."

"Merlin's beard," scoffed Malfoy, "Potter, you don't have to do it. Grow a pair-"

"Five points from Slytherin," Dumbledore stopped him before he could continue.

In turn, Malfoy glared at him and said coldly, "Slytherin is no longer my House, remember Professor?"

"No, no," Harry cut them off. "I really don't mind. Really, it's fine. Though, could it be possible for Ron to switch with me?"

"Harry, I think you understand that we don't want to draw more than necessary attention to any party. If Ron joins you, he too could end up hurt. I know that I have asked you for their help with some measurable risk, but I cannot in good conscience allow myself to put him in danger in such a blatant manner. I ask this of you only because I know that you would be willing to-"

"No, I understand, sir. Of course," said Harry with a smile that he couldn't seem to keep on his face.

"Is there anything else we have to discuss?" asked Draco.

Dumbledore smiled sadly, "Yes, Mr. Malfoy, quite a bit. Before I continue, however, I must ask you, are you comfortable with Mr. Potter being present for the rest of this conversation?"

"Comfortable? No, Professor. My eyes are at this very moment in danger of being poked out by some of that bush-like walking danger on his head."

"Mr. Malfoy, please be serious," said Dumbledore with a small, unconscious smile.

Draco look sideways at Harry and smirked, "You're right, sir. Best not to say anything further. I feel it getting angry at me; it might attack."

"Oh, that's it," cried Harry exasperatedly pushing his chair back and standing.

Draco regarded him with a disapproving look and said, "Calm down, Potter, and keep it at bay. What does it concern, Professor?"

"It concerns the passages we have created for you to get in and out of various parts of the castle in case your safety is threatened."

"Oh, well then, Potter can stay." At Harry's incredulous face, Draco gave him a cunning look, "Don't be daft, Potter. I don't like you, but I'm not stupid. I'm going to need your help sometime, and though I hate it, you have to know all about this if you are to be of any use to me."

"Malfoy, just to make it clear, in case you swallowed too much peroxide while bleaching your hair, I'm not your servant, so don't think that-"

Draco looked at Dumbledore and asked, "What is it talking about, Professor? I have no idea what bleach is. I feel that it has lost its mind. I propose it was eaten by its hair."

"Damn it, Malfoy-"

"Five points from Gryffindor," called out Dumbledore successfully silencing Harry. "Mr. Malfoy, that is enough. You too, Harry. Please sit down and stay calm. I know this isn't easy for either of you, but we must deal with it. Now, since we have Mr. Malfoy's permission, I have to ask both of you to listen intently and memorize what I have to tell you. This information is by far too precious to be written down."

He waited for both Harry and Draco to nod before continuing. "Alright, Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall have created three major secret passages that can be reached through any of six different points in the castle, strategically placed to coincide with your classes as well as any territory that might prove to be hard for us to carry vigilance over when a large number of students are assembled, such as outside the Great Hall. These two keys," he said handing them over two small silver keys attached to brown cords, "have been charmed by Professor Flitwick to get you into the passages whenever it senses that you are in trouble. They are meant to be worn as necklaces, which is why they have attachments. Yours, Harry, has been modified so that it glows and becomes warm to the touch when Mr. Malfoy is in need of you. In moments of dire danger, it has been spelled to take you to Mr. Malfoy's side within fifteen seconds."

"They will prove particularly useful," continued Dumbledore, "for classes taken outside of the castle and for such a time as we deem it safe enough once again for you, Mr. Malfoy, to venture to Hogsmeade.

"Sir, how is it that this will get me to Malfoy? I thought apparition was not possible inside of Hogwarts," asked Harry.

"No, it's not," Dumbledore shook his head slightly, "but these do not involve apparition. They are more of a cleverly designed, miniature portkey. Professor Flitwick informed me that they act as a pair. That is, yours will respond only when somehow called to Mr. Malfoy's, which incidentally has a direct read to his emotional distress as long as it remains in contact to his skin. It is imperative, therefore, boys, for you to always be wearing them. As a matter of fact, please put them on now." He waited until both put them on, "Under your shirts, please. It would not do for anyone to see them and wonder why it is that both of you have matching necklaces. Like I said, make sure that it touches your skin. There, thank you."

"Are they also connected to the staff?" asked Malfoy rearranging his collar.

Dumbledore gave him a small smile. "Very perceptive of you, Mr. Malfoy. Yes, as a matter of fact, every Professor, myself included, has one of these," he showed them a small, smooth brown stone, "At such a moment when Harry's key begins to respond when you find yourself in danger which you cannot escape, our stones will respond to your key and alarm us of your presence in the castle."

"It's very ingenious," Malfoy conceded, fingering the charm through his shirt.

"Yes, we think so," said Dumbledore beaming. "It should only alert us of great danger, as I have said, so that we may optimally grant you your privacy. We don't want to interrupt a private moment of sadness were that ever to come up. So, do not fear that we will put a stop to all measures of your freedom."

Draco paused and looked into the Head Master's eyes before looking down. "Thank you," he muttered so quietly it would have not been heard had there been any other noise.

"You're quite welcome, Mr. Malfoy."

"Is there anything else, Professor?" asked Harry clearing his throat.

"Only one more, but for this, I must ask you both to keep your cool." Harry and Draco and looked at each other and quickly looked away, "I will take that as a concession."

"Go on," said Draco looking determinately at the wall besides the Head Master's head.

Dumbledore tapped the tips of his fingers together and gathered a breath, as if fully aware of what an unwelcome thing was to come, "It concerns your password."

Draco's cold eyes locked with the older man, "What about my password?"

"Although we have fortified your room's entrance with protection spells, Professor McGonagall proposed that we take one step further in making sure that we let nothing escape our notice. I think that we will all here agree that nothing is more important than-"

"Sir," Harry stopped him, "you're just delaying the inevitable. Please go on."

Dumbledore sighed but said, "Very well. We thought it prudent to give the Professors and Mr. Potter here access to your rooms in case-"

"What?" cried Draco.

"Mr. Malfoy-"

"No, how in the world is that fair? The Professors, sure, I understand, but what type of reason could there exist for Scar-head and that baby gorilla on his head to have access to my _personal _rooms? It makes no sen-"

"Malfoy, shut your ugly trap. We both agreed to keep quiet while Professor Dumbledore spoke. This is all for you benefit, so why don't you just-"

"Potter, SHUT UP. The big boys are talking here, why don't you go play with your thumbs while we figure something out, huh?"

"ENOUGH, BOTH OF YOU," shouted Dumbledore. "You are acting like infants. Harry is right, Draco, this is only for your benefit. Everyone who cares for you is bending over backwards to find a solution so you will do well to remain quiet for the remainder of this conversation. I know you are already tired of this and that you don't deserve this, and," his voice softened, "I am deeply sorry. If this is going to work, though, you must keep an open mind and remain assured that we would never do something frivolously. We have thought this out in detail, so please give me a chance to explain before you reject it."

Draco took in a deep breath but said nothing allowing the Head Master to continue, "Harry is going to have almost immediate knowledge if anything is wrong with you. If someone somehow makes it past our security measures or if you are hurt outside but somehow make it into your rooms via one of the secret tunnels, having Harry know your password would maximize _our _chances of making sure that _you're _okay. I think you can see the sense in that."

"And it will only be used in case of an emergency?" asked Draco.

"Harry?"

"Yes, of course," Harry said, looking at Draco earnestly.

"Well then I guess I don't really have a choice, do I?"

Dumbledore smiled, "I was certain you would see it our way. Harry, I think that's all for now, unless either of you have anything more to say gentlemen."

"I actually do have a question, Professor. As far as my friends are involved, what does this mean for them?" asked Harry.

"That's a very good question, Harry. Thank you for bringing it up. The Professors and I agree that their involvement should be publicly limited to such times as Mr. Malfoy is in need of assistance be it for whatever reason. We say this only because we as of yet are unsure what means will be taken against Mr. Malfoy, or to what extent the damage will be. Please advise them that if they ever see Mr. Malfoy in some sort of altercation with any of the Slytherins or see him in a position that seems suspicious or in any way endangers his well being, they are to come to his aid. They should not, however, put themselves in a position where they might seriously be hurt. If they ever find themselves in that situation, please ask them to go to one of the Professors as soon as possible. Besides that, we have nothing but gratitude to give them."

Harry nodded and stood, "Am I needed for anything else, sir?"

"No, Harry, that will be all. Don't be surprised if you are called once again after classes. I want you to meet us later in Draco's room so that we may see you both getting in and out of the various passage ways. I'll send word for you later, though."

"Alright," said Harry. "I'll be going then."

When the door closed after him, Dumbledore turned to Draco and said softly, "Draco, I know that this is harder for you than anyone can possibly understand. I am sincerely sorry that you have to go through this, but I know that my words of sympathy are the last thing you probably want to hear. So, I will keep my thoughts to myself. Know, however, that you will always have a friend within these four walls, and please also know that Harry really is trying to help you. Now, why don't you let me accompany back to your rooms via one of those secret passages I just finished telling you of?"

Thankful for the opportunity to escape, Draco pushed his chair back and led the way, a quiet, "Yes, sir," drifting in his leave.

Alright all, thank you so much for reading. Now I know that I am getting more hits than I am reviews, as many of you out there are putting this as your favorite story and story alert list. I ask for you to please help a poor, struggling writer get better. Therefore, to get constructive criticism and to get publicity for this story, I ask that you REVIEW.

I WILL UPDATE WHEN I GET BETWEEN 15 AND 20 REVIEWS.

Thank you,

Aly


	3. Chapter 3

After being escorted back into his rooms by Dumbledore, Draco was allowed to finally be by himself. As he sat on his bed, staring about him, it was with a distinct sense of surprise that he realized how tired he felt. His chest felt heavy and his heart was beating quickly, as if he had run many miles or used his magic for days on end without any rest. He gazed around the room, noticing for the first time how spacious it really was, brought to focus in part by the high stone ceillings. It was circular in design atop one of the most western turrets; in the middle, breaking up the space, two textured, gray columns separated his large four poster bed from a small sitting area. Two full, soft sofas and an armchair surrounded the tall fireplace, glowing a soft shade of marine blue as the embers burned. Turning his head, Draco analyzed the armoir next to two handsome bookcases, one which sat upon his desk. Past it, a small hallway opened into his bathroom complete with a shower, two sinks, and a toilet all done in gray marble. Exhaling loudly, Draco allowed himself to drop on his back atop his bed and wondered at how much he honestly did not care for such well constructed rooms practically reeking of prestige.

It was obvious the professors had gone to great lengths to please him, no doubt prompted by Dumbledore to avoid any sort of detail that would remind him of his former house. There was no green piece of cloth to be seen in the entire area, no hint of the slythering body of snake, nothing that would bring to mind all that he had lost in such a short period of time. It was precisely that, however, the obvious care put into his acccomondation, which brought everything to stark reality. He _was _no longer part of Slytherin, a house of which his family had been a part as far as Malfoy history. He no longer had friends, no allies; in fact, he had no family, no father or mother, and for the first time ever in his life, he felt truly and honestly alone. Such loneliness invaded everything, as if it were real, as if it were smoke that was making it harder for him to breath, making his face hot, squeezing his heart, until he realized that tears were carving their way down his face and that his heart hurt, it hurt so much it felt as if it was breaking.

As Draco sat in a trance, staring at his hands as he allowed his silent tears to fall, Harry found himself throwing up a shield to protect himself from a spell only inches away from his face. He frowned distinctly and barked out a stinging hex that went wide missed its target by inches as the other boy slid to the ground and rolled away to safety. Harry narrowed his eyes in distaste, more than aware that the other boy was using too much force behind his attack, aiming to hurt rather than disarm as was the design behind the excercise. He already sported a cut across his upper arm done early on when he hadn't expected an outright attack from his classmate. They were in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and it was his final day before he switched with Draco. He had been looking forward to making the most of his time with his friends but had been forced to partner with a Slytherin boy he had never bothered to know, and now here he was, trying his hardest not to hurt his opponent while keeping himself safe. As another curse singed the cloth of his pants and burned a gash on his calf, that resolve melted slightly and when he was knocked on his feet, his patience deteriorated all together. With a final glare, Harry knocked the other boy off his feet, causing him to hit his head heavily on the way down, and ended the match.

"Andrew, I asked you to stop," Professor Kindler, the latest to fill the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, called out coming to the other boy's aid. He sat him up carefully and asked, "What of my instructions did you not understand?"

"Sorry, Professor, I guess I didn't hear you."

"Didn't hear him? Are you insane? You attacked Harry when you knew that you were only supposed to disarm, you stupid twit," Ron said through gritted teeth walking towards Andrew Bonham, his hands clenched at his sides.

"Alright, Mr. Weasley," Professor Kindler stepped between the two boys, "I think we can give Mr. Bonham the benefit of the doubt. After all, in the heat of battle, sometimes we lose sight of anything besides defense."

Andrew looked straight into Harry's eyes, "Yes, Professor, it wasn't about hurting Potter at all."

"You lying little shit," Ron called out, trying to get at the kneeling boy past Kindler's body.

"Five points from Gryffindor. Mr. Weasley, calm yourself. You will not refer to another student in such a matter. You will do as you would like to be treated."

Harry put out a hand and grabbed onto Ron's arm. "No Ron, it's okay. We all make mistakes," then he looked back at Andrew, "even I do. I wouldn't be surprised if my wand just happened to slip without me realizing the force behind a blow."

"You'r right, mate," Ron looked between both boys breathing heavily, "sometimes my wand happens to get away from me too, all the time, actually, especially around Slytherins."

"If that's a threat, Weasley, then-"

"No, it's not," said Harry in a low voice, "We're just agreeing with you. We're just letting you know just how much it is that we agree with you."

"Yeah, mate," put in Seamus, "we _all _agree with you. In fact, all of Gryffindor does."

"Listen here-"

Professor Kindler took out his wand and cast a silencing spell, then he turned his wand on the students and separated them to opposite sides of the room, "That is enough. We are going to believe Mr. Bonham this time. If it happens again, though, Mr. Bohnam, you will find yourself placed in the safe hands of Mr. Filch for a few days, is that understood?" Andrew opened his mouth to respond but nodded when no noise escaped his lips pausing momentarily to look at Harry with a hard glare. "Class dismissed."

As they walked out the room, Harry smiled when Ron's hand rested on top of his shoulder, "Thanks for that."

"No problem," Ron responded, "What was that, thought? I don't care what Kindler says; that _snake _was trying to get you hurt. His wand slipped, my arse."

Harry laughed but winced when the other boy brushed the cut on his upper arm, "Just forget about it. If it happens again, I will make sure my wand slips too. You can go ahead."

"Wait, where are you going?"

Harry looked around them at the passing students and lowered his voice, "I have to meet Dumbledore and Malfoy. We have more stuff to discuss to keep Malfoy safe."

Ron frowned but nodded, "Alright, just watch you back. See you later."

Harry watched his best friend walk away with a small smile and turned to walk to Dumbledore's office. He wasn't a fool, and he didn't think for a second that what had happened inside the classroom had been some sort of mistake. Bonham had attacked him knowing fully well what he was doing, and judging from the frustration painted on his face , he was angry he hadn't been more successful. Such an early attack was both surprising and welcome. Now, Harry was sure that this wasn't a game, that Draco's life was really in danger, and that it was up to him to make sure that nothing happened. He smiled at the Headmaster when the older man greeted him, but as they walked towards Draco's rooms in silence, he once allowed his thoughts to take free rein. It was odd to him to feel something like this for someone who not but a day ago, he had regarded as his biggest enemy next to Voldemort himself.

If he was honest with himself, the strangely powerful protective instincts he felt towards Malfoy were in large part aided by the welcome distraction caring about another's safety brought. Thanks to Malfoy, he didn't have to think about the fact that he had almost died two days ago. Instead of dreaming of the cold terror he had felt as his lungs filled with water and his body fought for breath that wasn't there, he had dreamt of Malfoy trying to run to him, a look of pure terror on his face, somehow hindered by some invisble barrier that slowly turned to black smoke and wrapped itself around Draco's neck, slowly suffocating the other boy to death. He had said nothing, and he would say nothing to his friends, but now that his mind had time to process all that had occurred in such a small amount of time, he was determined to do everything in his power to aid Malfoy. Of course, he didn't consider the other boy his friend, but he was forced to recognize that had it not been for the Slytherin, he would have been dead, well and truly dead, and he had a debt to repay that felt so heavy he was afraid he would never quite do it. His thoughts were put to an abrupt halt as Professor Dumbledore extended out his wand and muttered the password below his breath, smiling when the doors swung open with a soft click.

"Oh look, the badger on your head has gone rabid. Is it getting ready to attack?"

"Mr. Malfoy."

"Sorry, Professor," Draco smirked, "It just momentarily shocked me. I thought I heard it hiss."

Harry frowned and pulled a self conscious head to his hair, trying to smooth it down, "Malfoy-"

Then, as if turning a switch, Draco's eyes went cold, "What happened to you?"

"What?" asked Harry looking confused.

"Your arm...and your leg. Potter, what happened?"

"Harry, I had not noticed," Professor Dumbledore came closer, examining the gash on Harry's arm, opposite where he had been walking. "How did this occur?"

Harry's cheeks colored and he looked down, "Andrew Bonham attacked me in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Bonham?" Draco asked, his countenance becoming even darker as he turned to look at Professor Dumbledore, "He's Alexander Fingle's nephew."

The Headmaster's eyebrows knotted, "Alexander Fingle is an avid follower of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Yes," Draco nodded, "Father told me about him. His family was among the first to join the Dark Lord when he first rose to power and one of the first to rejoin his side when he announced his return. Andrew is among those set to receive honor in five months."

"Honor?" asked Harry.

"The Dark Mark," answered Draco.

"That is _not _an honor, you idiot Slytherin," Harry glared at him, immediately incensed.

"No, I suppose you reserve that name for an early death and the fall of an entire-"

"SHUT UP, Malfoy. Why can't you just keep your mouth shut for once in your-"

"Don't tell me to shut up, you who are nothing but a poor imitation of an overweight beached whale-"

"You have the nerve-at least I don't look like an overgrown five-year-old hit so hard with the ugly stick that-"

"POTTER! Would you please release that thing on your head back to the wilderness before it sucks up your last two remaining brain cells?"

"SHUT UP, THE BOTH OF YOU," yelled Professor Snape coming into Draco's room looking ready to throttle both of them if it meant they would stop their imbecility.

"I'm sorry, Professor, I was only begging Potter to have a lobotomy. No one will even notice if you trade that the shrubbery on your head for a hat and carry around a napkin. The slobbering won't be any more noticeable than usual; besides, if you stick to the shadows it will be better for everyone, and I know your hair won't mind. I mean look at it, it's already trying to run away from your head. Maybe that's why it looks so angry. Potter, even your hair is appalled to know any sort of ressemblance you have to a wizard is purely coincidental," Draco said with malicious delight.

"Keep talking, Malfoy, maybe one day you will say something that actually matters. I mean, Merlin, if what you don't know can't hurt you, then you are practically guaranteed immortality," returned Harry.

"Were your parents siblings?"

"Malfoy! Please breath in the other direction, you're bleaching my hair!"

"WHAT IS BLEACH, YOU FAT WALRUS?" 

"ENOUGH," roared Snape, casting a silencing charm at both of them, successfully stopping their inane tirades, "Your verbosity is only exceeded by your stupidity. You will stop, or I will personally make sure that you-"

"Severus, perhaps it would be better if we went ahead and got to business," Dumbledore said softly putting his hand on Snape's arm, looking ridiculously amused.

Snape took in a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, allowing the spell to drop. Looking up, he glared at everyone in the room, "You will behave. That is not a question."

Harry took in a deep breath and looked at Draco for a split second before sighing, "I'm sorry, Malfoy."

"Jesus," Draco let out, shaking his head at the stupidity of Harry's unwillingness to let bad blood live between them.

"Okay, boys, that is enough," said Dumbledore. Then, he turned to Draco, "Will you please do us all a favor and grace Harry with the knowledge of your password?"

Draco glared at the Headmaster, understanding that this was nothing but a ploy to put the current argument to rest. However, though he wanted to make Harry feel as much like shit as he currently felt, he let the argument drop and without looking at Harry, he said, "A fortiori."

"With yet stronger reason," translated Snape looking momentarily pleased, "Indeed, Mr. Malfoy."

"Will you please repeat that for us, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.

"A fortiori?" Harry asked Draco, looking unsure of himself.

"Yes."

"A fortiori."

"Fantastic," said Dumbledore. "Now, gentlemen, let us move out to the hall. I think it time for us all to explore the passagesw so well crafted by Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall."

They all walked out of the room into the hall, and it was with distinct displeasure that Harry noticed the long distance Draco kept between them, as if he really was afraid that he was going to catch the stupid from Harry. It made him angry, though he urged himself to let it go. The thing he found most frustrating was that now that he had been given a little time to accept the things had worked out, he was more than willing to give Malfoy his due. Hell, for the way they had been two days ago, he was practically on his knees for the other boy. He couldn't understand, therefore, why it was so bloody hard for the blond to just swallow up whatever hatred had previously existed between them, so that their relationship could get even a little better. After all, it was a certainty that their lives were tied now, no matter how much the other boy hated it. If the Light lost, so did he. Everything would just flow so much more easily if he could accept that this was the way things were and that Harry really didn't want to make it any harder for him than it already was.

If the silent glares the other shot at him when he was under the impression he was not noticed were any indication, that day seemed far off. Being angry would make nothing better, though, and it was with this thought in mind that Harry forced himself to keep breathing and forget the insults thrown at him by Malfoy. He tried to concentrate on Professor Dumbledore's words as he continued to explain to them both the intricate manner in which the passages curved throughout the castle, and it was with a small smile of delight that he learned that one even led directly to the kitchens in case something occurred and Draco, and Harry, were forced to miss dinner. Yet as they walked, and as he cooled down, it became increasingly evident what had been there for such a long time that Harry had pushed it to the back of his mind.

When he had been fighting Bonham, his chest warmed and he attributed the change in temperature to the rousing of his anger. He had been so concentrated on not getting either he or Andrew hurt, and then on knocking the other boy of his feet while keeping himself safe, that he had forgotten all about it. Then, amidst the angry discussion with Malfoy, he had felt nothing but the need to hit Malfoy upside the head with a chair for being such a jerk. Now, though, calm as he was, it caught him by surprise to feel the necklace against his chest warming his skin. He looked at Draco questioningly, narrowing his eyes, but the other boy was listening intently to whatever it was that Professor Snape was telling him and paid no attention to Harry. It made sense that Draco would be upset now, after all, he had basically burned Harry to a crisp with the intensity in his eyes, but it did nothing to explain why the necklace would have warmed even while Harry was in class. Obviously, Draco was not very upset, and it was with this new seed of knowledge safely stowed away that Harry brought his attention to the other members of their party.

Draco was distinctly aware that Harry was staring at him with a look on his face that made him vaguely resemble a sloth with mental disabilities. He had no clue what that look was about, but right now, he couldn't afford to worry about it. It was imperative that he momorized everything coming out of the Headmaster's mouth, so he set himself to the task. Each constructed passage was approximately six to eight feet wide and about twenty feet tall. They were simple, made for their purpose and not for aesthetics. The stone of which they were made was smooth and matched the soft earthy color of the castle; the only thing particularly remarkable about them all was the distinctly serpentine manner in which they twisted, veering off here and there, leading to newly added doors.

"Professor, why are there doors? I thought that these passages led to six different points in the castle?" he asked.

"That would be Professor McGonagall's doing; she believes, and I am forced to agree, that having only six ways for you to escape danger is by far too risky. These are a means to give you increased opportunity at escapse if such a thing ever comes to," answered Dumbledore admiring the doors of which they spoke.

Snape regarded him for a moment then said, "You should not worry about the time it will take for you to learn all the places offering an opening. So long as you have the necklace Professor Flitwick crafted for you, you will be able to see an outline of the doors even if they are hidden in plain sight."

"Is that not too risky?" asked Harry. "What would happen if someone manages to stumble into an opening?"

"Thankfully, Harry," said Dumbledore, "That should be one thing which should be of no alarm. The only ones with access into these halls are you two, and only so long as you wear the necklaces provided for you, and the professors, and they only when they hold the stone given to us by Professor Flitwick."

Draco nodded and moved forward, placing his hand on the wall. As it often occurred with things crafted out of large amounts of magic, the stone beneath his hands thrummed with the buzz of magic's residue. When he had been younger, maybe five or six, his father had come home after being away on business and they had sat together on his bed, his father patiently listening to Draco as he described all the things he had done with mommy and the nannies while his father had been away. Then, as it always happened upon his father's return, he received his gift. It had been an orb, made up entirely of magic, and his father had explained how that particular one had come from a Greek island and how without too much effort, anyone with any form of power could forge one.

Obviously, now, that statement had been said to peek his interest, and it had been almost immediately that he had urged his father to make him one of his own. He had watched with intense anticipation as his father worked his wand in a circular motion until finally, he was finished. He had taken the orb from his lap and placed it carefully into Draco's waiting hands. He remembered staring at it in awe and vowing to his father that he would take care of it forever. It had given him such pleasure to see his father smile at him as he giggled at the tiny tremors being emmitted by the orb itself that it had become one of his favorite memories. Tearing his eyes away from where his hand lay, Draco silently turned away and continued walking once again refocusing on Professor Dumbledore's words.

After they had finished their excursion, all four had made their way once again to Draco's rooms, where they had made Harry practice opening Draco's door. He had felt like an idiot under Draco's obvious amusement but continued to do as he was told, if only because it meant that he would get to leave faster. Surprisingly, it had been Dumbledore and Professor Snape who had left together assured by Dumbledore that he would be okay on his own and that it was good for him to figure his way around the passages. So, he found himself staring into the fireplace in the uncomfortable silence of Draco's rooms.

"Well," Harry breathed out, "I think I'm going to get along and be on my way." Draco stepped in front of the door and blocked Harry's way, glaring at him until Harry squirmed, "What?"

"What is wrong with you?"

"What?" Harry asked, unconsciously and automatically bringing a hand to his hair.

"No, I'm not talking about the perm gone wrong from hell, although I think I have made it clear how incredibly frightening it really is," said Draco.

Harry brought his hand down and looked away, "Then what is your problem now?"

"You're my problem," came the hostile reply. "You and your stupid decisions. Tell, what exactly is it that would prompt you to throw your life away and jump into a freezing lake?"

Harry's cheeks colored but he glared back, "That is none of your busines."

"None of my business," Draco exclaimed. "Are you fucking kidding me? I gave up my life to save yours, and you don't think I deserve to know what it was all worth?"

"Draco," Harry said softly, his anger immediately melting under Malfoy's pitiful look.

"No, don't," Draco called out.

It was to no avail, however. Harry didn't know what overtook him, what it was that made him do it, but suddenly before even he realized what he was doing, he had enveloped a frozen Malfoy in his arms. It was odd to hold the other boy, not least of all because he was taller than him. Yet, as soon as Harry was going to stop, to give him back his freedom, Malfoy did something that completely shocked him; he slowly melted into Harry's arms, though his hands did nothing but remain frozen at his sides, his head turned to seek comfort in the crook of Harry's neck. Harry eyebrows knotted in concern when the necklace heated further, as if by taking Draco in his arms, he had somehow allowed the other boy to focus on just how badly he felt.

When Harry felt the side of his cheek become wet with Draco's tears, he whispered, "I'm sorry, Draco."

After a moment, Draco took a single step back, brushing his lips faintly against Harry's neck, and moved out of his reach, "Get out."

Harry looked at him for a moment, but nodded, and moved to pass but not before saying, "I would give up my life if it meant you could have yours."

Draco turned to look at him and tilted his head, "You keep saying that, Potter. Promises, promises. Could you at least give me one thing to make this all incredibly better and easier to bear?"

"Anything," Harry said without hesitance.

"Do that thing on your head a favor and euthanize it; that way you put it out of its misery and me out of mine," Draco said smirking as his scathing remark followed Harry out of his rooms.

As Harry walked back to his dormitory, he lost himself in thought and allowed his hand to wander to the necklace on his chest. It was still warm, though not nearly as warm as it had been when he walked freely into insanity and hugged Draco. It worried him, the heat coming off in waves from the necklace, and it upset him more legitimately than he would care to admit. Of course, it in no way meant that he still didn't think that Draco was an arrogant ass with a penchant for driving even saints insane with his inane stupidity, but it did mean that he harbored deep sympathy for the other boy.

Harry knew all too well what it was to be without a family, even surrounded by the Dursleys. He could relate to the fear and isolation Draco was no doubt feeling, could recall with ease the utter loneliness and the hollow feeling in the bottom of one's stomach. Worst of all was the knowledge that it was unequivocally because of him that Malfoy had lost everything he had called his own in a matter of minutes. It had felt good to offer the bit of comfort he could give the Slytherin, even if he knew it was most likely not well received.

No matter how utterly frustrating the other boy was, Harry was determined to show him the compassion that he would have wanted if his whole life had been ripped apart. The thing about Malfoy was, no matter how much of an ass he was, there was something about him that made Harry go crazy with curiosity. Hermione and Ron thought it was a strange obsession, and though he would never call it an obsession, it was evident to everyone that when it came to Malfoy, there was a special piece of Harry's brain especially set aside concentrated on convincing the listening populus Malfoy was on the threshhold of some evil deed, like procreating. Now, everything was fucked five ways to hell and Harry had no idea what it was that he felt. All he knew was that he would be there fore Draco, no matter if it slowly gave him a complex about his hair.

"Hi, Harry."

"Holy shit," Harry breathed out pulling his wand out and spinning to face whoever had thought it a good idea to tap his shoulder in a dark, deserted hallway.

Luna Lovegood tilted her head to the side and regarded him with an undecipherable look, "Do you have a hair infestation?"

"Oh, not you too," Harry groaned pushing his hair down with one hand and putting his wand away with the other, "Luna, it really is not a good idea to sneak on someone when they aren't expecting you."

"Obviously or there would be no need to sneak, would there?" she asked, her gaze wandering to his hair once again, along with her wand, "I saw you pushing your hair while you were walking. I thought perhaps I could help."

"No, thank you," said Harry. "I do not indeed have an infestation growing in my hair; my hair is just dandy, in fact. What are you doing so far into the castle?"

Luna looked up, as if that explained everything, "I was chasing them."

Harry looked up as well but saw nothing. This was typical Luna, and he simply had to smile, "What exactly would that be?"

"_They_ are magical Lexins; they're created when large amounts of magic are used, you know? I found them yesterday."

"Oh," said Harry, "Well, do you need special glasses to see them?"

"No," Luna smiled, "You don't _see _them, Harry, you feel them."

"Right, I'm sure that-Luna, what are you doing?" Harry asked looking down at the younger girl as she moved closer to him, pushing her cheek to his chest.

"You have Lexins around you," she answered with her face an inch away from his chest.

Harry took an uncomfortable step back, "Well, isn't that interesting? I'm heading back to Gryffindor now. Would you like to walk with me?"

"Hmm," she thought about it, "Yes, I think I would. You smell especially nice today."

Back in his room, Draco was sitting in front of his fireplace staring at the dying embers. Whatever the hell it was that had driven Potter to _hug _him of all things, it was not acceptable. It was not acceptable for him to show whatever emotion he had betrayed on his face causing Potter to approach him and possibly transfer diseases previously unknown to men housed in the jungle on his head. He was a Malfoy, and Malfoys did not take adversity sitting down. They fought, manipulated, and outmanouvered everyone to get what they wanted. His father had asked dignified composure, and that was precisely what he was prepared to offer. The Slytherins and the most dangerous wizards in the world might want him dead, but he wasn't alone. Potter was possibly the dumbest thing on earth, obviously not human, and perhaps better kept in the dark so as to not offend such eyes as his own, but he was powerful.

Draco was not prepared to trust the rest of the Gryffindors as far as he could throw them. They didn't care about him, and he wasn't willing to fool himself into thinking that they did. However, they would do whatever their fearless leader instructed them to do, and he had no doubt whatsoever that Potter would fight to keep him safe. He was not above using them to assure his safety, and he would regardless of what they thought of him. Potter was a completely different story; however much Draco hated to admit it, the Gryffindor idiot was going to be his greatest asset in the months to come. He had to get close enough to Potter to guarantee that he wouldn't be left alone when it came time for him to ask for help. He would hide his distaste, and he would hide how broken up he felt inside. He was going to be a Malfoy and Potter was going to help him, no matter how offending to the senses he was.

Across the castle, finally back in Gryffindor tower, Harry said a quick hello to his friends and headed into the dormitory. He grabbed his pajamas and a towel, heading towards the showers. Luna had been right; Harry did smell especially good. The faint scent of cologne clung to his shirt, and as he took it off and brought it closer to his nose, he realized with a curious smile that the scent belonged to Malfoy. Setting the shirt aside, Harry finished undressing and jumped into the water, going through the motions of getting himself cleaned. His mind was tired, and he thought of nothing at all as he finished, coming out and getting dressed quickly, wanting more than anything to simply get into bed and get some rest to prepare for the ordeal that tomorrow promised to be. He would be joining Malfoy for almost a full day of classes, and he didn't know what to expect, obviously a severe dose of insults and perhaps some attacks.

It was an especially uncomfortable feeling knowing how unprepared he really was for a threat he knew nothing about. Putting all of these thoughts aside, however, Harry concentrated on brushing his teeth, and for the first time in ages, on brushing his hair. He threw on his shirt and sat on his bed. He took the necklace from next to his skin and examined it as it glowed faintly in the dark, warm against his palm. Right now, he didn't know what to make of knowing of emotions Malfoy fought so hard to keep hidden. It was not for him to find out, however, and as the other boys climbed into bed, he called out 'Nox' and allowed the necklace to fall down the inside of his shirt warming his skin until he fell asleep.

Hello everyone! You have blown me away. I really didn't expect so many reviews; I was mostly doing it just to see what sort of response I could get. That being said, as happy as I may be, I would like to make it clear to you all, especially all of those who took offense to my request, that you do not have to review. It is a nice gesture most appreciated by your humble writer, but please do not do something that causes you some distress.

I really do love the reviews, because they help be better myself as a writer and create a story directly influenced by you. I would have not thought to include Luna in this story, but one of you asked for her, so here she is. REVIEW and tell me what you want; I will listen to what you say and use what can be integrated into the story. THANK YOU SO MUCH, you guys, and please REVIEW. I really appreciated hearing from all of you, especially those of you who took the time to give me long reviews with specific criticism. You make me a better writer.


	4. Chapter 4

"Don't breathe in my direction, Potter. I might catch the stupid," Draco said early on Wednesday morning coming out his rooms.

Potter was waiting outside in the hall for him, propped against the wall with his bag on the ground. Just looking at what an awful mess he looked like made Draco run his hands over his own robes, making sure that everything was in place. He honestly couldn't understand how Potter could walk around looking as if he had just been shortly attacked by a wild goat; it was disgraceful. His fugly hair was doing its best to escape again, and his robes were askew as if he had slept in them. _Honestly_, Draco thought casting a critical eye on the other boy, Potter wouldn't look half bad if he straigthened up, put his hair in a dog shelter, got some clothes that actually fit, brushed his teeth for a couple of hours, controlled the body odor, and traded in the bottle-bottom spectacles for something, anything that wasn't as disturbing looking as they were. Then, after he did all that, he could start working on the inside that Merlin knew was fucked up six ways to Sunday. Draco wouldn't give a damn about him, and really, he didn't, but if he had to actually speak to it, he was going to make sure that it did it's best to look something more like a human being and less a cross between a cave man and an ant eater.

Harry glared at him, noticing even through his sleepy haze that the necklace cooled for an instant while Draco talked down to him, and responded, "Jesus, Malfoy, better stupid that an ingrate like you. Did your parents drop you on your head to make you that bloody slow?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Draco adjusting the straps of his briefcase.

"You took _forever _to come out," then after a pause, "And why do you have a purse?"

Draco paused buckling his _briefcase _and looked up to glare at Harry, "This isn't a purse, you idiot. This is a state of the art, designer-"

"Wow, I really wished I cared," Harry said, knowing he was being a nasty git but really not giving a damn. He had been having nightmares again last night about Draco and Voldemort engaged in battle ending with Draco screaming out in pain. They scared the hell out of him, because he couldn't tell if they were products of his over-active imagination or just another little gift from Voldemort letting him know what he was going to do with Malfoy when he got his hands on him. Harry had only gotten maybe four hours of sleep, and even though it wasn't technically Draco's fault, he was still irrationally angry at him. If he were noble enough, he would take a moment to recognize that the anger stemmed out of worry for the other boy's safety, but really, he had gotten four effing hours of sleep; he wasn't feeling exactly noble at the moment.

"Oh, for God's sake, Potter," Draco exclaimed in annoyance. "How do you manage to make a mess without even touching your bag?"

Harry threw his head back and gave a heavy sigh allowing the hollow shell of his backpack to fall to the ground. All of his parchments and quills were strewn about the hall, a result no doubt of him having forgotten to close his bag, because of stupid Draco's fault and lack of sleep, "Great. Peachy perfect, thanks."

"Wow," Draco said slowly, "If the voices start telling you to burn small animals, get away from them."

"You're a big help, Malfoy," Harry bit back, bending down to pick up his things.

The blonde rolled his eyes and brought out his wand, "Oh, leave it. Are you a wizard or aren't you?"

"Well, what do you propose I do about it then, genius?"

Draco had to stop for a moment, really not believing how someone could be _that _slow. He pointed his wand at the mess and said, "Numerus Ordo." The corner of his lips tilted up triumphantly, and then he looked down at Harry, "It's about time you recognized my greater intellect."

"Thank you, Malfoy," Harry said automatically watching as his belongings arranged themselves carefully and neatly inside his bag as it shut to a close.

"No problem, Potter. My father did always say that us born of a higher natural status had the responsibility to give charity to those _lesser _creature such as you and the tumor growing out of the side of your head," said Draco turning on his heel and beginning his way down the hall.

Watching him walk away momentarily, Harry winced, because although Malfoy carried himself proudly, his necklace had begun to warm again. Arranging his bag on his back, Harry did the only thing he could do; he followed Malfoy down the passage into their new first day of school.

iIiIiI

"Well, this is awkward," Draco commented under his breath, scanning the way in front of them, conscious of all the unfriendly looks being fired his way.

They had made it out of one of the passages without being spotted and had managed to make their way just outside the Great Hall; that had obviously been a mistake. Though Draco had known he was most likely going to garner displeasure by flaunting himself, he hadn't considered that his classmates would display their animosity so openly. There was absolutely zero subtlety in the way their eyes followed him as he and Potter walked past them on their way to History of Magic. This morning, Draco had decided that in an effort to show he was in no way backing down, he would make his way among them, unwilling to show any weakness. Even so, he had to wonder now if that had been the right move to make. They were like sharks whose interest was peaked the minute they smelled blood; the Dark Lord had to be offering up something big if they were reacting this way. Studying them, however, Draco smirked at the way their eyes trailed to Potter by his side, as if he was an unexpectedly unwelcome and annoying barrier whom they wished would trip in a hole and die. Draco was hard pressed not to agree with them, but glared at them regardless, daring them with a tilt of his chin to say anything as he pushed closer to Potter, their hands brushing as they turned the corner and, sure no one was watching, disappeared into another hidden passage.

"Holy shit," Harry let out the moment they were safely hidden.

Draco nodded at him and stepped further away, "I didn't expect that."

"They do know they're just students, right? The way they were looking at you, and at me for that matter, you would have thought that they were Voldemort himself," Harry said shaking his head.

Draco smirked through the discomfort of hearing the Dark Lord's name, "You don't get it, do you? It's not hard to grow a pair when the most powerful wizard in the world is offering you power and glory unimaginable to others. Nothing short of that would have made them react that way; you could practically see their greed, the fucking bastards. It was uncouth. They're a shame to Slytherin, acting with zero cunning, and I-"

"What is the matter with you?" Harry stopped him with knotted brows.

"What are you talking about now?"

"Malfoy, those people out there," Harry motioned past the door they had just come through, "want you _dead_, and yet all you can talk about is how they are shaming you House? Are you being serious? They're out to get you. I would think that fair bit of knowledge would keep you more concentrated."

"I am concentrated," Draco spat out, "but there is no reason for them to throw caution to the wind that way. Whether you can understand it or not, this is going to play out underhandedly. They _will _come after me, but if they know what's good for them, and if you know what's good for you and your friends, they had better do it without everyone noticing. If they all start coming in packs no one will win, do you understand that? No one, including you and your side."

"What do you mean if I know what's good for me and my friends?" Harry asked worrying his bottom lip.

Draco ran an exasperated hand through his hair, "Potter, think about. I'm serious; please use the two remaining neurons you have. If they continue to act this way, as if I'm the prized treasure, and if they come after me openly, people will start getting hurt. Notice that I made no distinction as to who would get hurt, and I mean it. People in general will start suffering because of this. Suddenly, you will find students being pulled out, because it will get too dangerous and increasing numbers will start being sent to the hospital. Let me make it clear that's only _if _they don't figure out a way to get to me quickly."

"They couldn't be that stupid."

That literally made Draco let out a genuine bark of dry laughter, "Potter, do you not yet know the mind of a Slytherin? There is _nothing _they would not do to get in the Dark Lord's good graces, _nothing._ As it is, you're right. They're not _all _that ones that get too greedy too quickly will start getting picked off and weeded out pretty quickly, whether it's by us or by my fellow house mates. The really smart ones will bide their time and make sure that no one messes with their plan, so they will manage the overeager ones. That doesn't mean, though, that they will be able to stop them all, or that they will want to for that matter."

"But you just said-"

Draco stared into Potter's eyes, making sure that he got the message, "They want me dead, Potter. That doesn't mean they don't want to see me suffer before it happens."

Harry took a deep breath and shifted the weight on his feet. He didn't know what to say to that, and he knew for a fact that Malfoy wasn't expecting an answer. Yet, as much as Harry wanted to tell Malfoy that he was wrong, as he was ninety-nine percent of the time, he was sure the blond idiot actually had a point. What they had seen in the eyes of their classmates had been received loud and clear; even the younger students, the first and second years who were too young to know what was really going on, looked at Draco with interest, stared even as if they were memorizing what they saw so that they could relate it to someone who could actually do something about it. Even he, who was used to being on the receiving end of some pretty nasty looks, had been taken aback by the fierceness of their concentrated glares. Right now, though, they could do nothing about it, and class was about to start.

Shaking his head, Harry said, "Come on," feeling like a right prat for not knowing what to say.

iIiIiI

Midway through their new Divination class, Harry was sitting on a tiny chair with his head thrown back at an uncomfortable angle, his mouth hanging open, deeply asleep. A few seats above him, Draco had braved the heat and his own drowsiness for this moment. He balled up a piece of parchment, pausing momentarily when the noise made Harry stir and then took aim. The Ravenclaws were sitting at the edge of their seats, enraptured and obviously unused to such a spectacle going on the middle of class. Even Professor Trelawney, though she kept going on with her vapid, boring lecture as if nothing was happening, was keeping careful attention out of the corner of her eye of the preceedings going on in the upper right wing of the room.

"Damn it," Draco swore under his breath.

The parchment had missed the inside of Potter's mouth, it's intended target, and had hit him on the nose instead, bouncing off to the ground as Harry sat and almost fell out of his chair. He looked around, confused about where the attack had come from. He did a slow blink, trying to will away the sleepiness from his eyes and frowned when he heard the chuckles going off around him, led by none other than that little shit Malfoy. Harry turned around in his seat and stared hard at him, willing his ugly, pointed head to explode.

"Don't look at me that way, because a demitasse would fit your head like a sombrero, amigo," Draco said out loud much to the amusement of everyone in the room.

Harry turned around on his chair and glared at Professor who had the audacity to start laughing loudly and unapologetically. "He's right, Mr. Potter. You would do well to stay away from small cups of coffee," Professor Trelawney said in a mystical voice regaining her composure. "It's all here in the tea leaves. In fact, why don't we all take turns looking at our partner's cup. Be on the outlook in particular for bad omens. December is always such a horrible time."

The Ravenclaws rolled their eyes here and there but set about assidiously working on trying to make out what it was that Professor Trelawney wanted them to see. It was obvious to Draco that they were on to Loony Trelawney's game and were smart enough to go along with it if it meant that it got them the highest marks. Even so, some lazily spat out boring ways in which their class mates would be suffering for the month while the more imaginative ones went all out and, giving their partner's a saucy smile, related the intricate details of their upcoming misfortunes. They had no doubt been informed earlier of Draco and Harry's arrival, because after some curious looks at the beginning of the class, no one did anything that related any form of surprise. _Good, old Ravenclaws_, Draco thought. They were for the most part too docile to question an authority figure. Well, except Luna Lovegood. There was a fruit deformed in its creation and knocked off a couple miles from the tree.

"You are such an arse, Malfoy," Harry said wiping the drool off the side of his mouth with his sleeve.

"Class is not for sleeping," Draco smartly replied, "as I'm sure our astute class mates would be more than happy to attest. Are you too thick to even know when the appropriate time for sleep is, Potter? Shame on you; you have proven me wrong. Calling you stupid would be an insult to stupid people."

Harry gave a real yawn and said, "Keep talking, Malfoy. I always yawn when I'm interested."

"I have come across decomposing bodies that are less offensive then you; in fact," Draco said, catching sight of Professor Trelawney making her way to them, "I think that _is _your decomposing body I see right here. It's quite obvious, wouldn't you say, Professor?"

"Hmm, yes indeed," Trelawney said merely glancing at the cup, "You must prepare yourself Mr. Potter."

Draco tapped his index finger against his chin and smirked, "I guess that explains the body odor."

"Well, it's not my fault I'm so tired," Harry said, something in the tone in which he said it making Draco suspicious.

"What? Are you suggesting that it's _my _fault that you can't sleep? Aww, Potter, has my charming disposition kept you up at night?" Draco taunted, but something in the way Harry looked away without meeting his eyes made him cock his head with curiousity.

"Malfoy, do me a favor and grasp on tightly to your ears, alright? Now tug until you dislodge your head from your arse," Harry said, avoiding the temptation of responding to Malfoy's offending middle finger in favor of deriving the sweet satisfaction afforded to him by the renewed anger coming off Malfoy in waves as he ignored him.

iIiIiI

Lunch was an interesting experience for Harry, to say the least. He had spent a few minutes in the Great Hall with his friends and scarffed down a quick lunch before saying good bye to them and heading off to find Malfoy. He wasn't exactly sure how his gesture was going to be received, though he suspected with annoyance more than anything, but he was willing to go through Malfoy's scathing remarks anyway. Malfoy was in his rooms, alone, having a lunch that he was obviously not enjoying if Harry's warm necklace was anything to go by. It was becoming increasingly evident as the day went on that Malfoy did alright as long as he was distracted, and he seemed to particularly enjoy himself when he was putting Harry down and insinuating Harry's hair vaguely reminded him of squid genitalia. The necklace would cool against Harry's skin but would once again heat when Draco walked down the hall and got into staring matches with the Slytherins or he got time to think. Being alone was not the best thing for him at the moment, so Harry decided to try to do something about it.

When he got to Malfoy's door, however, he had to pause. He hadn't really mapped out what he was going to say to Malfoy, but he decided it was best to wing it rather than drive himself crazy with thinking about how he was going to start a conversation or worse, what Malfoy was going to say back. Regardless of the ache in the pit of his stomach telling him this was a bad idea, Harry raised his hand and knocked on the portrait of a sleeping man that looked out with surprise at him and then returned to his nap. Doing his best to smooth down his hair, Harry waited patiently while Draco cautiously opened the door and looked down at him as if he were a bug he vaguely wanted to squish.

"Yes?" Draco asked Harry with a raised eyebrow, his cold demeanor not betraying his surprise.

Harry let his backpack fall to the ground and adjusted his robes nervously. He cleared his throat and as cooly as he could, he said, "I didn't fancy being skewered alive by the glares the Slytherins were throwing my way, so I figured I could come hide out here until we have to go back to class."

Potter was _such _a bad liar, Draco could basically smell it. As it was, he meant well, and though his intentions were misplaced, Draco had to admit that being with someone, even if that person was Potter, beat agonizing about all the different possible ways he was going to be attacked. Without saying another word, Draco stepped back and allowed Harry to walk in.

When Harry walked into the small sitting room, it took him by surprise. Everything was neatly ordered, and nothing was out of place. When he turned to look over at the bedroom, it was the same there. The bed didn't have a wrinkle in it and the pillows were propped against the headboard as if with great care. Even Draco's lunch was placed immaculately on the tiny two people table newly brought in with his plate separated equidistance from his drink as from the neatly folded napkin Malfoy must have placed there before opening the door. This was certainly at odds with Harry's idea of Malfoy.

"What? Why are you looking at my things as if they were rank?" Draco asked a little insulted that Potter was gaping at his things as they were going to spring out and attack him.

"Oh, sorry," Harry caught himself and schooled his features. "It's just really...neat."

"Of course it's neat," Draco scoffed, sitting down once again and picking up his fork, "What did you expect?"

Harry shrugged, "I don't really know. I mean, I never really invested much thought, but I would have thought that you being who you are would be more-"

"More what? You expected me to be a messy neanderthal like you? Please. Give me more credit," Draco told him taking a bite of his food.

"Not a messy neanderthal, no. More like a rude, selfish, and spoiled prat," Harry said hotly.

"Woah, there. Down boy. There is no battle of wits going on here, Potter. I don't pick on unarmed men."

"Why are you such a jerk, Malfoy?" Harry asked pushing down his hair and turning to walk outside. He regretted trying to be a nice guy to someone who clearly had a stick so far up his bum, it was lonely inhabiting the space between Malfoy's ears.

Draco stood up and started laughing, "Come back here, Potter. It's your own fault, you know? You just make it too easy."

"Whatever," Harry muttered, displeased he had fallen into Draco's game so easily, "We have to go or we're going to be late for class."

"You're right. We should go, or I will be forced to taunt you a second time."

"Malfoy!" Harry exclaimed his hands clenching by his sides, ready to attack the bastard. All he got as an answer was Draco's laugh as it echoed through the halls.

iIiIiI

By the end of the day, Malfoy was really, really annoyed. His schedule was different that Dumbledore had explained, with his classes all shuffled around. The Ravenclaws, and yes, even the classes he was forced to spend with a Hufflepuff or two that happened to trickle in, were alright, made a little more entertaining by the constant joke that was Harry Potter. Once outside, though, it was a completely different story. The Slytherins didn't let up, at all. If anything they got more vicious as the day went on, eager, apparently, to do some damage. Suddenly, he began tripping on flat floors, or his robes would get caught in a door. At one point, his briefcase rebounded a spell clearly meant to rip it. It would have succeeded too had it not been for the fact that this particular bag had been in his family for centuries, passed down one Malfoy at a time, complete with the many protection spells put on it fueled by the many years of paranoia which had kept his family members alive.

Runes had been fine. He, and Granger, he could easily see, were pleased to be in a class with students who also found the subject interesting. The Professor was even more animated, knowing that he had a captive audience. Draco had actually enjoyed himself for most of it, jotting down notes without being self conscious as he would have been around the Slytherins. In fact, had he not taken notes, he would have stuck out like a sore thumb. Everyone was bent on outdoing each other and all that could be heard above the Professor's voice was the constant scratch of quills, pausing only here and there to be dipped in ink. Granger had looked as if she was in heaven, turning her head around in surprise at finding no one sleeping or being obnoxious. It was even to her credit that she didn't attempt to sympathize verbally with Draco. She gave him a careful little smile before sitting down next to him, her eyes scanning the room to make sure that no one dangerous could get to him, even going as far as picking a seat next to a wall for Draco to sit in. If Draco had been anyone else, he would have thanked her for her obvious care. Instead, he refrained from making fun of her as his form of gratitude.

The last class he had for the day was Potions, once again with the Ravenclaws. They seemed to adapt quite well to him, especially since he wasn't making caustic remarks to make his buffoons laugh. The thing was, at the core of who Draco Malfoy was existed a young man who loved to learn. He didn't need to; in fact, he had a good size fortune in his trust fund, which had passed over into his hands the moment he turned sixteen as with all of the Malfoys, and even had businesses in his name. His family was known for giving their children their wealth early, giving them the tools to succeed and make their own galleons sooner. Being in the position in which he was, Draco was more than willing to admit he was coasting on nothing but luck. Had it not been for his family's snobbish custom, he would have been stripped of his wealth and would have been left destitute.

He shook his head, and cleared his mind, concentrating on Snape's lecture and on finely slicing the toad's toes in front of him. He didn't even know why he bothered; with Potter as his useless partner, they were mostly likely going to fail despite Draco's efforts. No matter how tempted he was to 'accidentally' tip the pot's concoction on Harry, sure that he would look great with the extra warts it would give him, he had to refrain. This late into the year everyone had settled into a comfortable routine with their partners, and as the new members of the class, Draco and Harry were forced to work together.

They were the last to finish, but in the end they did a good job of it. Potter, of course, held them back with his stupid questions. It didn't matter that one of them had stopped Draco from adding an ingredient too early, which would have made their potion poisonous. What did matter was the fact that thanks to Draco's finesse, they had received among the top marks. For his part, Potter positively glowed under Snape's cursory praise, seeming embarrased by the attention. It made Draco roll his eyes and cross his arms. It was typical Potter. He couldn't even stop squirming when someone was _actually _giving him a compliment that was well deserved.

"Thanks for that," Harry said walking through the door next to Draco's side. "I know you pulled most of the weight."

"Malfoys don't pull weight, Potter. We gracefully glide through adversity into triumph," Draco informed him haughtily.

Harry let out a low chuckle and said, "Well, regardless of what you do, thanks. I really appreciate all that-"

But he never go to finish. Before he knew what was happening a group of Slytherins walked past them, attempting to knock Draco over. As quickly as he could, Harry grabbed Draco's arm and swiveled him, so that their positions were switched. The Slytherins backed away when they saw what happened, packing together and walking faster past Harry without saying a word. Among the confusion, Draco hadn't noticed anyone else going by him, until he felt a note being passed into his hand. He had no time to react, however, because no sooner had he felt the parchment than Potter had grabbed him by the arm and pushed him to walk down the hall and turn at a corner. Without looking back, Draco got a hold of the hidden knob and pushed a door open, stumbling into the emptiness of one of the hidden hallways.

Inside that cold shell Malfoy presented, he was freaking out. Harry was sure of it, because the skin below his necklace was rapidly getting uncomfortably hot. He turned to a stunned Malfoy and urged, "Move. Come on; let's get you to your room."

Something was wrong; Harry kept glancing at Malfoy nervously as he walked straightbacked concentrating sternly on stepping through his door. Setting his bag down, Harry looked at Malfoy and then glanced down at his hand. It was white, clutching something inside it so hard that he had stopped the circulation.

"Malfoy, what is that?"

Draco opened his hand and stretched the parchment, his eyes hooded as he read out loud, "I'm neutral, Malfoy, so consider this small consideration a favor. It will happen soon." He threw the paper on the ground and sat down heavily on his couch, letting his hands drop into his hands, "That's Zabini's handwriting."

Harry bent down and picked it up, reading the words there over and over again. He was confused; he could understand Draco being upset about almost being shoved, but he should be happy that someone at least was giving him a heads up. Malfoy wasn't happy, though. In fact, Harry's necklace was getting so hot that he had to take it out from under his shirt.

"Leave, Potter."

"Malfoy, what's wrong?"

"Leave!"

"No. Tell me what's wrong."

Draco got up and forcefully grabbed Harry's upper arm, moving him with brute force to the door. Potter had to leave before he did something really stupid or worse, embarrasing.

Harry shook his off and grabbed onto Malfoy's hands which were reaching for him again, "Malfoy, what am I not understanding?"

Then, it was like a dam, and Draco wasn't sure why he was talking except that his hands were shaking, and his heart was beating too quickly, and his head was spinning, and he couldn't stop, "You don't understand anything! That could have been poison capable of dissolving through my skin, Potter. That could have been the last spell I would have ever heard, because I wasn't on my guard. That could have been a deadly spider slipped into my robes, or a piece of cloth charmed to asphyxiate me. That fucking piece of paper could have been a potion that could burn my skin, or it could have been-" and he went on and on, becoming icreasingly visibly upset, so upset that now it wasn't only his hands but his whole body that shook as he moved away from Potter who was advancing on him, moving in the direction of his bed.

Harry had to stop him, not only because he was worried about Draco's health, about the shady pallor on his face, but also because his skin was starting to hurt even though the necklace was on top of the fabric of his shirt, "Malfoy," he reached out to him only to have his hands slapped away.

He tried again, though, succeeding only because Malfoy couldn't seem to get control of his hands. Then, they were somehow sitting on Draco's bed, with Harry's arms around Malfoy's neck, being held tightly as the other boy wrapped his arms around Harry's waist. Harry didn't know how it happened, but minutes later as he started whispering into Draco's ear that it was really okay, that Draco hadn't almost died, even though that was passing on a technicality, Harry had ended up with the leggy blond completely wrapped around him. The scariest thing was that Malfoy wasn't crying, he was rationally spouting out the many ways in which he had failed at protecting himself and how close they had come to losing his life.

Some minutes later, though, with Harry hanging on firmly to him, Draco was able to regain his composure. He separated himself from Harry, unwilling to look at him in his eyes and paced away. Frustrated, he ran his hands through his hair, already messy from where Potter's fingers had clung to him. Even through his fear, he felt the shame of having leaned on Potter of all people in his moment of weakness. Going to the fireplace, Draco wrapped his arms around himself and stared into the fire.

"Malfoy, what happened?" asked Professor Snape as he walked through the door looking flushed, as if he had hurried to them, no doubt alerted by his stone.

Harry got up from his sitting spot on Draco's bed and handed him the piece of parchment which was crushed on his lap. Snape took it from him and read it, his brows setting into a deep frown as he reread the words printed there. When Professor Dumbledore walked into the room, the Potions Master turned around and gave him the note. He only said, "They are planning something."

Now Harry truly understood the gravitas of the situation. Professor Snape was unhappy, Dumbledore looked somber and every one of his years, and Draco Malfoy, son of a Death Eater, a boy brought up among the Dark Arts and dark things was worried, truly and honestly worried for his life. If the three people who could best understand the danger Malfoy was facing were scared for his life, what were they to do?

iIiIiI

Thank you so much for reading, and PLEASE REVIEW! Did you like it, hate it? Let me know. I broke it up since that was the main complaint I got, and I hoped that it helped. Also, and this is a shameless plug for my new story, I would like to invite you all to read THE TIME IT TOOK. Come take a ride on the Ron/Harry ship, and tell me what you think. Tell me what you liked, what ticked you off, and what I could do better. Please give it a chance; it's long, but I promise that it's worth it. READ AND REVIEW everyone. THANK YOU FOR BEING THE BEST READERS IN THE WORLD!

Aly


	5. Chapter 5

"Come on, Potter, get up," Professor Severus Snape said, though his face reflected the exhaustion on Harry's.

They were alone in the dungeons carrying out another of Professor Dumbledore's clever ideas. It had all begun that morning, on Saturday three days after Draco had been tagged with the note; in fact, it had been the note which had started it all. After they arrived, Dumbledore and Snape made Harry and Draco retell step by step the proceedings leading up to the attempt against Draco made by the Slytherins. They recounted again and again every step they took, what they had said, what they were doing, and how it happened that amidst the confusion of perhaps one bothersome though innocous intrusion, Draco had been passed the piece of parchment. To them, however much they wished it otherwise, it was all a blur. Neither had expected something to happen, and they hadn't been prepared or studious enough to recount the last few moments of the encounter with as much details as was being asked of them.

Draco was white, pale and sallow with fear. His hands shook, and he tried to control them by clasping them together all the while telling them everything he remembered in a steady voice. It came as surprise to Harry that Draco had a photographic memory, although when he said so, Draco silenced him with a look that insinuated that if Harry opened his mouth again he would make sure that certain pieces of his anatomy went missing. Draco described everything with startling clarity down to which students were standing where, going far beyond enumerating simply the Slytherins, and who he had seen as Harry had hurried him into one of the hidden passages. He seemed to never tire of the string of questions asked of him over and over again, never losing concentration until Dumbledore had deemed it time for them all to leave Draco alone. By the time Harry made it into bed, it was past midnight. He thrashed and turned on his bed until the early hours of the morning, trying to recall something useful that he might not forgotten, wondering in the back of his mind just how Malfoy was doing alone. His hand had gone repeteadly to the necklace which rested warmly against his palm and glowed sofly in the dark until four a.m. It was only then that Harry allowed himself to get some rest, knowing the necklace had only seized because the owner of its twin had finally drifted off to sleep.

The following two days had been tense. As it worked out, Harry didn't need the necklace to know how shitty of a time Malfoy was having; all he had to do was look at the other boy to know that he hadn't been getting enough sleep. Though his hair was meticulously in place and his clothes rested neatly against his body, the flesh below his eyes was dark and obviously bruised. He carried himself with the same pride and exuded the same cocky arrogance as always, but Harry noted how he fought to stay awake in almost all of his classes where Harry's presence almost completely assured his safety. When they weren't in class, Draco was a complete tomb. He walked closely by Harry's side, always making sure that they were next to a wall with a hidden door, and his eyes roamed the halls taking particular care to note where everyone stood and what House robes they wore. Even if the Slytherins had wanted to do him any more harm up close, there was simply no way. He continued to miraculously trip on smooth floors and had almost even run into a door that opened the moment he was passing by but made sure that no one close by could reach him. Thanks to Harry's urging, it was almost on every ocassion that Malfoy was seen surrounded by Gryffindors, Harry by his side, and two others behind and in front of him.

Harry was positive it annoyed him, though he had enough sense to say nothing. He had remained silent, coming out of his reveries only once or twice a day to exclaim with consternation at Harry's appearance. For his part, Harry had made sure to give the Slytherin as much room as possible. He felt like a prat, though. If it was him, he wouldn't have wanted to be left alone. He would have probably pushed everyone away, but he would have wanted at least Hermione and Ron there. When he spoke of his concern with his best friends, they too were torn about what to do. None of them knew Malfoy, not really, so could say nothing about what his feelings could be. Ron had been adamant from the get-go for Harry to simply ignore what was happening until such a moment as Draco verbalized he needed help, still not believing for a second that a Slytherin could trusted, especially a Malfoy. Though Hermione sympathized with the blond, even she was forced to admit that she also didn't know what to do. Even if she had, she wasn't sure that she would ask it of Harry. Malfoy deserved their gratitude and their help, but though he had been thrusted into the Light, his true loyalties, his true feelings weren't known. The word Mudblood still echoed in her head when she spoke of Malfoy, and it was only with cautious accceptance that she set about helping Harry map out a way for them all to aid in protecting Draco.

She, Ron, and Harry had been midway through their plans when Professor Dumbledore personally escorted Harry to his office. The Headmaster had looked tired and in his eyes lay shame, a shame that spoke volumes of what he thought about mere children being entangled in games of murder, chasing after glory they could not understand would not last. Voldemort would ask everything of them, take everything _from _them, and he would leave them with nothing. Blaise Zabini's cunning kindness had reminded him of what he did not wish to accept: that his students, the very ones he had seen grow up before his eyes, were set, put on the path by their families, on killing Draco Malfoy. The message was not lost on him, and he was prepared to reinforce the plans already set out for Malfoy's safety. He had secured at least two professors per every corridor Draco walked on his way to classes, where they would monitor no traps were set out and could keep a careful eye on everyone. If anything else went wrong, he was prepared to ask the castle itself to work with them to protect the boy and was willing to go the Ministry of Draco's behalf.

Yet, it was not because of this that he had walked Harry to his office. It was something else completely, because while Draco had to fight for his life inside the safest walls in the world, Harry Potter was destined to fight forces all over the world that were after him, mercenaries set out for gain and Voldemort himself. Dumbledore had stalled too long, wasted enough time, and he had to do something about it. Harry needed to be trained, needed to be taught and be given all the tools at their disposal to help him get through the adversities that were scattered across his path. He had been meeting with Harry all year, all the time aware that he was only sixteen years old, and had told him about the Horcruxes, had initiated taking the boy with him while they searched for clues. He had even gone as far as allowing Harry to take with him a necklace they had recovered, though the boy had given it back the next day after Draco Malfoy had saved his life having had no time to look for any clues as to how to destroy it. Now, though, it was time to go beyond that. It was time for Dumbledore to act as the leader he was and prepare a young man for the fight of his life.

"Harry, do you mind coming to sit down?" Dumbledore asked his student who was inspecting a round object on one of his shelves.

Harry put it down gently and sat down, "Professor, I have been straining all day to figure out if there is anything else that I might have forgotten to tell you, but there really isn't. My memory's not like Malfoy's, and I can't remember anything but what I have told you."

"Thank you for trying, Harry, but that is not why I have asked you to join me," Dumbledore said, pausing to push a candy dish in front of the Gryffindor. "I must speak with you about something that more personally pertains to you."

Harry grabbed a strawberry flavored candy, surprised the Headmaster was venturing into unknown candy choices, but let it drop, "What do you mean, Sir?" 

"You know what I mea, Harry," Dumbledore regarded him with a quiet voice. "I feel that in my old age I have gotten too soft, wanted to protect you though it stopped you from growing. In short, Harry, I think that it is time for you to begin training."

"Training?" Harry asked. "What, like beyond Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

Dumbledore nodded, "With someone that can teach you far beyond than the current Professor."

"I know you're talking about Snape, Professor. Now, Sir, I understand that you think you're doing this for my benefit, and I thank you and all, but precisely how is it that you can ignore that Snape is just waiting for an excuse to murder me with a twelve foot hook?"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Harry," Dumbledore smiled, "_Professor _Snape only has an eleven foot hook. He also happens to be the only member on staff that can teach you Core Magic."

Harry closed his eyes and blew out a breath, "I know I'm going to regret asking, but what exactly is Core Magic, Sir?"

"Core Magic is a branch of Magical Theory which enables the caster to use the purest form of magic, that which comes from the very center, the core, of your being. It is a discipline which also allows one to ground one's magic with the Earth, Harry, the very Earth and which with much practice can enable manipulation of the elements. It is very dangerous, and even if you cannot get to that point, which is not expected of you since it takes half a life time for people to master, it will still give you tools. It makes it easier for you to cast spells, makes them more accurate and stronger, without draining you of your energy as quickly. There is too much for me to explain in a simple conversation, Harry, but you would be given books on theory and taken through practical practice with Severus if you agree to this," said Dumbleodre.

"Why can't _you _teach me?" Harry asked knowing that if only few individuals ever learned this type of magic, Dumbledore of all people would know how to handles it.

The Headmaster regarded him for some long moments as if deciding whether he should say what was at the tip of his tongue. He tilted his head and nodded once, opening his mouth to say, "Your magic, Harry, far too closely resembles my own for me to teach you."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked uncomprehending.

"There are five distinct points, besides the core of the body, from where magic is gathered to be channeled through the wand of a witch or a wizard. It is a combination of genetics and of one's magic which decides the precise pin point locations. However, without fail, they are the forehead, the heart, the two palms, and the lower belly. When a wizard or a witch gets hurt, these spots are particularly helful diagnostic tools for a Mediwitch. Poppy and I collaborated and have found that yours, my boy, match mine almost exactly. Though our genetics are obviously different, your magic resembles my own. With Core Magic, a beginning student is put through ruthless training, draining one of energy at the beginning, making magic volatile. If I were to teach you and you lost control, your magic could respond to mine, especially if I am not tired, and make it dangerous not only for you and I but for the other students as well."

"But Snape and I-"

"You don't match. I checked after I found the similarities you and I share. I must ask you forgive the intrusion put on your body, but it has been months since I began contemplating teaching you this art," Dumbledore said looking slightly guilty.

Harry sighed, dismissing his apology, and asked, "And you think this is going to help me defeat Voldemort?"

"Harry," Dumbledore regarded him gravely, "I have no doubt that it will help."

Harry nodded, "Alright then. When do I start?"

So, here he was, the very next day, on his knees before a very intimidating, sweaty, angry looking Snape. He hadn't told his friends the details, knowing for sure that Hermione would be intrigued and cautionary and Ron would react as he always did, with somber initiary introspection and then a joke. Except, he didn't want to joke about right now. The thing about seeing Malfoy genuinely scared for his life was that it certainly brought his own ordeal into jarring focus. He was fighting for his vey life too, and he wanted to take it seriously even if it was only for a short time. He had never really felt as if he was fighting for himself, if he was honest. In fact, he had always felt like he was only doing it for everyone else, because his friends, the people he loved, and the rest of the world were expecting him to save them all and emerge triumphant. Yet, at the end of the day, he really was fighting for himself, and that thought, crazy though it was, made all of the other responsibility fade into the background making it better somehow. He knew that he would tell Hermione and Ron eventually. Right now, though, he couldn't think about when exactly that would be. Snape was looking at him as if he wanted to decapitate him.

"I think I broke my spleen, Professor," Harry said, clutching the side of his stomach.

Professor Snape did a slow blink and pursed his lips, "Potter, you are depriving a village somewhere of an idiot. Now, get up and concentrate."

"My spleen, Sir," Harry wheezed.

Snape sighed and put away his wand, wiping sweat from above his eye, "Your spleen is not even remotely close to the spot you're clutching."

"Oh," Harry said looking up, "Then perhaps my philanges."

"In the land of the witles, the half-wit is king," Snape said shaking his head. "Get up, Potter. Take these with you and read up on the first few chapters of each of them. We will begin to meet every other day to give your body time to regain its strength. When you return, please grow a brain and perhaps try to teach yourself common sense. Do not try to practice outside of this room; it could be dangerous and without someone there to take care of you, Dumbledore will pull the plug on this little venture, although I don't know why I am warning you."

Harry took several large volumes from him, staring curiously as the cover of one changed from a man petting a dragon to one who once he noticed he was being watched waved enthusiastically at Harry, "I'll do my best on the growing a brain part, Sir. Although I must use Malfoy's words of wisdom: ignorance can be cured; stupid is forever."

"Potter, are you making a joke?" Snape narrowed his eyes.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Professor," Harry said in hurry, getting out of there before Snape gave in to his urges and threw a desk or worse, his nose, at him. It could do permanent damage.

Walking up into the main hall and ducking into one of the hidden passages, Harry checked the inside of his robes to make sure the parchments he needed were still there. He was heading to see Draco, hoping to catch him in a better mood than he had been the past few days. The parchments were Harry's shot at making it easier for the blond to sleep at night. Ron and Hermione had kept working on their plans well until Harry got back from Dumbledore's office the day before and had shown him with proud smiles with what they had come up. Now, he was going to go propose the plans to Malfoy, praying that he would cooperate.

Harry knocked on Malfoy's portrait and waited patiently while the door was opened. Malfoy looked like death warmed over, though perhaps a little better that he had looked all week. His cheeks had a little more color back in them, though Harry wasn't sure if it was natural or a byproduct of the bath he had obviously taken, if his damp hair was anything to go by. Harry had expected to be immediately told off or invited in, something, but he was made to wait, while Draco tapped his index finger to his lips and studied him with a cocked head. After another minute, the blond seriously pondered, "If I was ever in need of a brain transplant, I think I would choose yours. I would want a brain never previously used."

"Git," Harry said, not knowing why he was coming here to try and help out the great prat. "Just let me in, alright?"

Draco rolled his eyes and stepped back, "What are you doing here, Pot-head?"

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the cage today," Harry commented, going for smug sarcasm but ending up looking like an idiot as he tripped on the carpet next to the couch.

Draco snorted and walked around to sit on the armchair, "Oh, Potter, you never cease to amaze. You started at the bottom, and it's been downhill ever since."

"You're about as useful as a warning sign on a goat's ass, Malfoy."

"Oh," Draco smirked, "I actually liked that one."

Harry shook his head and sat down on the couch, putting the parchments out on the small coffeetable, "Why are you so weird, Malfoy? Don't bother answering; I grow tired or seeing a monkey trying to act like a human. Anyway, look."

Draco leaned forward and perused the pages, "What exactly am I supposed to be looking at? By the by, did you perhaps dump your head in magical waste as a child? I've been pondering reasons why the thing you should call hair grew hair."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and ignored him, "These are plans that Ron, Hermione, and I drew up. The formations you see here are ones we think will benefit you most as you walk from class to class. At any given time, we can have at least three other Gryffindors with us in the corridors to help keep you safe. We have copies of these for the guys, and I'm sure that they will have no problem helping out."

Draco gre serious and picked up the parchments, staring from one to another. He turned them sideways and seemed to be thinking every possible angle of attack. Harry grew concerned as his necklace warmed again but calmed down when Draco placed them on the table once again with a satisfied smile, "The second one there should switch this person a little forward and to the left. Zacharias Wetfield comes out of Arithmacy at that time, and he's one of the really dangerous ones."

"Who's Zacharias Wetfield?" Harry asked changing the tiny drawing of a Gryffindor to where Draco instructed.

"Zacharias Wetfield is the son of Thomas Wetfield. He's an Auror double agent who's rising in the ranks very quickly," Draco answered casually as if he was sharing the latest gossip.

Harry's hand stilled and he looked at Malfoy with wide eyes, "Have you told Professor Dumbledore yet?"

"I'm not giving all my cards out at once, Potter. I'm much smarter than that," Draco told him rising from his chair, ready for Potter to leave.

Harry too stood up and followed him to the door, catching his arm, "What do you mean? Malfoy, this isn't a game. If you have information that could help us bring down Voldemort than it's your responsibility-"

"My responsibility to what?" Draco stopped him, yanking his arm out his grasp, "To tell you all everything I know and give you an excuse to get rid of me sooner than you want?"

"Malfoy, don't be daft. We would never-"

"No, _you _would never, Potter. You cannot speak on Dumbledore's behalf or on Snape's. One is a Slytherin and the other has manipulated his way for years to gain the position he's in, so-"

"Don't talk about the Headmaster that way; you have no-"

"Oh, grow up, Potter, and stop looking at the world through a rose colored glass," Draco insisted. "Can you honestly tell me there have been no moments when you have doubted Dumbledore's intentions? Don't even say anything, because you are a terrible liar. You in your Gryffindor stupidity would look at the devil right in the eye and pretend he's an angel. Well, I'm not that stupid. I can see Dumbledore's flaws, and I'm not going to jeapordize my safety to satisfy your moral objections."

"I would _never _let anything happen to you," Harry told him, staring into his eyes.

Draco paused and looked away, saying in a low voice, "You can't always be the savior, Potter. Besides, I don't need you to save me."

"Why are you such a prick, Malfoy?" Harry asked him searching the blond's face for an answer.

Draco returned the eye contact, "I have to work double time to make up for the one you're missing."

iIiIiI

"Potter, concentrate. Focus on the middle of your stomach and visualize you magical core," Snape barked at a sweaty, exhausted Harry who nodded in determination. "Just like the books you read told you. Now imagine that from there, strings of magic feed into every part of your body, with particular concentration on the your forehead, your heart, both of your hands, and just beneath your core. Now, feel it, and focus on your hands. Take your magic and gather it there and feed it through your wand. Good, now cast a-"

Except Snape never got to finish, because before he could Harry's magic got out of his control and left his wand with a loud boom and a force that knocked him off his feet and made him hit his head on the floor. Harry gingerly brough his hand to his bruised head and winced in pain as it grazed the spot where he had hit it. Next to him, Snape was also knocked down on his knees with the aftershock of Harry's magic. He most definitely did not look pleased and was glaring at Harry as if it somehow had been his fault his magic had gone bonkers.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry apologized.

Snape pushed himself off the ground and fixed Harry with a cold look, "You have got to learn how to concentrate, Potter. This was nothing with what could happen if you cannot achieve what is asked of you."

"I'm sorry; I'm just so tired," said Harry yawning against his will.

Snape rolled his eyes and put away his wand, going to the door and getting his outer robe from the coat hanger, "That's just fantastic. You have got to rest or this is not going to get any easier. Read the next few chapters of both books and do as they instruct you. Find a quiet spot and begin meditating; that should help you comparmentalize your thoughts so that they do not interrupt your training."

Harry watched him leave with a sweep of his robes and allowed his face to drop into his hands when he was finally alone. His day just kept getting better and better; that morning a Fourth Year had tried to push Malfoy against a wall but was stopped by Dean before he got too close. A fight had broke out, and Dean had to go to the infirmary with a cut lip. Harry felt like an jerk, because his first priority was getting Draco to safety. When he had finally got back, he had to travel all the way to the hospital wing to see his friend. He was lucky that Dean was so easy going, because when they had finally met up, the other boy had grinned at him and described in detail how he had hit the Slytherin and had heard a satisfying crunch. Dean was almost positive that he had broken the Slytherin's nose.

In fact, he had and the other Slytherins had retaliated throughout the day by attacking the Gryffindors with annoying little spells that destroyed their robes, or singed their bags, or, in Hermione's case, made her hair puff up to twice its normal size. No one blamed Harry, but he still felt responsible, especially when he wasn't there to aid against the attack, too busy being in peaceful classes with Malfoy and the Ravenclaws. Though he was willing to admit it was slightly sick, it gave him a perverse satisfaction to see how bad Malfoy looked. The Slytherin was only getting a couple of hours of sleep, which meant Harry was getting even less. He had not be able to sleep while feeling the necklace warm against his skin; his conscience ate him up at night when he would imagine Draco tossing and turning in his bed, completely alone without anyone to talk to. After almost a week or inadequate sleep, however, even his compassion was reaching a breaking point. Harry was exhausted, but could not explain to his friends why he had gotten detention in two of his classes, and why he fell asleep in four of them. He had to protect Malfoy, no matter how painful it was. He couldn't tell anyone about the necklace, so he stealthily changed the subject every time anyone asked.

iIiIiI

Two weeks later, Harry was still on the same boat. He was so tired that he had gained the ability to fall asleep while standing up. His lessons with Snape were't getting any better, because he could not quiet his mind and concentrate on the task at hand. All he could think about was how tired he felt and how much he wanted to go up to Malfoy and slap his face with a broom stick. Even though their magical cores were different, Harry's magic would still respond to Snape's now and then and would randomly cause explosions ending with both he and the Potoins Master at the infirmary being treated for burn wounds. Though Snape was perpetually annoyed with him, he didn't snap at Harry overly much about how hard of a time he was having. Harry guessed it had something to do with the difficulty of what they were trying to do. He had read that it took months for a beginner to learn even the most basic elements of consciously focusing magic; those beginners were usually middle aged wizards, not young teenagers like him who had no idea what the fuck it was that Snape kept telling him he was supposed to be feeling it. Any time that he did feel something, he was sure that he was imagining it out of pure frustration and exhaustion.

Harry had started taking to inviting Malfoy to a late dinner after his lessons, because he most often than not missed dinner with his friends. His actions did not entirely stem out of good will and were in no way purely selfless. He was so irritable that he would do anything he could to stop the damn necklace from warming against his skin. That included taking Malfoy with him to have a private dinner in the kitchens and being vebally assaulted by the blond. It happened so often that Harry was getting used to it, aided perhaps by the fact that Malfoy was just as exhausted as he was. Even his witticisms had suffered.

"Your hair reminds me of a whale's vagina," Draco insulted Harry once they were seated on a small table the House Elves had placed by the fire.

"Yeah, well after meeting you, I have decided I am pro abortion in cases of incest," Harry said in a tired voice taking a bite of a piece of bread.

They were so tired that half of the time their insults didn't even make sense anymore. The only reason Malfoy was with him, Harry knew, was because he was paranoid, truly and officially paranoid. He was fine when they were in class, but the moment they got out his eyes would roam everywhere and his body would tense as if he was expecting an attack to come at him from any direction. Harry was almost positive that it was the reason why the idiot couldn't sleep, because he no doubt kept himself awake contemplating the many ways in which the morbit jerk was going to die. Though Harry could understand and feel badly for the other boy, it didn't mean that his hands were practically aching with the need to slap him upside the head.

"Yeah, well, you look like shit," Malfoy returned grabbing on to his spoon and taking a delicate sip of his soup, unlike Potter who had the manners of a small troll.

"Let's play horse, dumb wad. I'll play the front part and you can play yourself," Harry yawned the let his head slam on to the table.

"Keep quiet. I'm enjoying watching your one brain cell fight for dominance with your hair," Draco shushed him ignoring the steely glare shot his way.

iIiIiI

Half a week later on Thursday night, Harry found himself tangled in his bed sheets, tossing and turning trying to get to sleep. It was five _fucking_ a.m. He had gotten maybe an hour on and off of some semblamce of sleep only to be woken up by nightmares of Malfoy dying or by the stupid necklace that was making his skin irritated with its warmth. He sat up and tossed away his comforter angrily. Without thinking about what he was doing, Harry grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and gathered his school robes for tomorrow and walked down the stairs. He marched determinately until he reached Draco's quarters and knocked until the angry Slytherin answered the door.

"What the fuck do you want?" Draco asked angrily.

Harry pushed past him and droppped his things on the armchair. Then, he turned around and walked back to Malfoy until he had him grasped by th front of his night shirt, "Go to bed, Malfoy. I am not kidding."

Draco pushed his hands off angrily and stepped back, opening the door, "Get out of my room, Potter."

"No!" Harry cried, "I have not slept well for almost three weeks, because of you. You're up until four in the morning every day, and I can feel it through the stupid necklace. I can't function anymore. I'm so tired that I fall asleep while in the shower. So, get in that fucking bed or I'm going to put you in it."

"I said, get out of my-"

Harry grabbed Malfoy's head and stared into his eyes, "I'm here, okay? So, you can go to sleep. Look," he got his wand out and pointed it at the door, "I've even put up a spell that will make an alarm go off if anyone approaches."

Draco took a couple of steps back and shook his head, "I don't need you to do anything for me, Scarhead, and don't ever touch me again."

Harry took a deep breath and tried again, so tired he was close to tears, "Malfoy, _please _go to bed. I _need _to rest for tomorrow. I will do anything you want if you do this for me."

Malfoy paused and took a moment to think things through, a Slytherin no matter how tired, "Anything?"

"Yes!"

"Alright, then," Draco said walking to climb into bed. "You're going to get Dumbledore to find out how my mother is and if anything has happened to my father."

"Done," Harry said, although he was so out of it, he would have promised to get Draco a unicorn if it would make him go to sleep. Without thinking, Harry grabbed Draco's covers and pulled them up, saying, "Now you can rest. I'm going to be right on the couch, so you can go the fuck to sleep."

"Charming as always, Potter."

However, Draco didn't say another word. When Harry had settled himself on the couch, the blond called out, "Nox," and settled into his pillows. Harry held his breath, feeling like he was going to break out into happy tears when Malfoy's breath slowed and became deeper after a few moments. He had been sure that once Malfoy felt safe, he would go to sleep, and now Harry could also get some rest, the necklace finally cooling inside his shirt. He nestled himself on the couch and momentarily wondered what the world had come to if he had tucked Draco Malfoy into bed before he was finally free to settle into some much needed sleep.

iIiIiI

Hi everyone! Thank you so much for reading. I was wondering if you could all do me a big favor and help me get up to at least 50 REVIEWS? Please, PRETTY PLEASE with a cherry on top. I hope you all liked it, and don't hesitate to tell me what you thought worked, what didn't, and what I can improve. PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW.

Your humble writer,

Aly


	6. Chapter 6

"Potter, have you ever considered that your sole purpose in life is to serve as a warning against procreation for others?" Draco called down one of the hidden passages, blowing air into the tea he cradled in his hands. "Potter. Potter, what's wrong with you?" Draco called out watching the idiot do a great imitation of a whale eating an ugly puppy; his hair was obviously the whale and his face was, of course, a naked, fugly stray no one would touch for fear of being passed diseases previoulsy unknown to man.

Draco walked closer to Potter, relishing the absence of exhaustion after having slept well every other day since the previous week. The bespectacled idiot would sleep in his own chambers for a day, waiting until the next night to come crashing angrily through Draco's door, cursing and swearing that this time he would really take matters into his own hands and pop Draco's head like the great pimple of humanity it was. It had progressed from there, the insults varying in degree of effect and sarcastic value, with Potter laying down on the couch angrily yelling at Draco to get the fuck into bed, even going as far as throwing at shoe at his head once. For his part, Draco put it off as much as possible, telling Potter off and asserting that until he got the information he had requested, he wouldn't go to sleep. Even if both knew to the contrary, Draco relished in assuming control of the situation, as if he was doing _Potter _a favor by getting some rest.

The first few times, it had been more than strange to wake up to Potter walking out of his bathroom brushing his teeth and adjusting his tie, and it still was. After all, a human being could only take so much of the ugly before he was forced to threaten to puke on his shoes if Potter didn't leave. Draco had been so tired, though he would never admit it even while suffering great torture, that he was thankful to see Potter's hideous scarred head. It had felt so strange sleeping through the night after almost a three weeks of staying awake that when he next awoke, he couldn't readily recognize the invigorating feeling coursing through his limbs. Hours later, it hit him that he was actually rested. He had been able to stay awake through his classes again, even having enough energy to sneak some water underneath Potter's sleeping head in Divination and convince the fool that he had created so much drool a small squid had practically taken refuge in there. Professor Trelawney had then gone on to predict the many ways Potter could perish in the next year as a result of falling into water sources. Of course, Draco had to point out that only someone as dumb as Potter would have that capability, of falling on his face and drowning in a puddle.

As it was, tomorrow was their last day before Winter break, and Draco had been looking forward all day to making Harry's life miserable. He approached Ugly's small, deformed brother and tried to grab his attention. Much to his annoyance, Potter ignored him in favor of staring at his hands. After what seemed a cliche, Draco had enough and swiped the Gryffindor's feet from underneath him, laughing as the moron went down, "Merlin, Potter. It's such a shame that your genepool's lifeguard went on a lunch break when you made a rush for it. Potter?"

Draco frowned and placed his tea on the ground, going down on one knee to wave a hand over Harry's eyes. The Gryffindor was staring into space, his chest going up and down quickly as he took in short little breaths. Harry blinked up at Malfoy and let out, almost as if against his will, "Ron almost died."

Draco straightened upright, "Potter, that's not funny." He got a hold of Potter's shaking hand and pulled him to a sitting position, where Potter sank against a wall.

"I was talking with Professor Dumbledore about your parents, and he was telling me how well your mother was doing under the circumstances when Hermione barged into his office. She was yelling about how Ron had started foaming at the mouth, and how they had taken him to Madame Pomfrey. They had to get him to St. Mungo's, and Hermione had come to let the Headmaster know. She kept saying how he had been feeling badly for days, but we had-had no idea-"

"Since when, Potter?" Draco interrupted him.

"What?"

"Since _when _had Weasley been feeling badly? What type of foam was it? Did it happen a couple of time before now, or-"

"I don't know; why does it matter? My best friend is in the hospital, Malfoy, and we're scared for his life. Why are you-"

Draco clutched Harry's shoulders and stared into his eyes, "Potter, for once in your life, shut up and try to remember. I might be able to help you."

"How can you-"

"I, unlike you, have a brain to match the human exterior. Now, focus, how long has it been going on?"

Harry focused, putting his head in his heads, and thought, "Well, he started complaining after Tuesday night, a little after we last saw him in the hall around midday. We thought it was just something that he ate, though. I mean, he wasn't doing anything that would make him sick. I have been thinking that maybe it was one of those bugs that took time to react."

"Potter, stop trying to make me hate you more than I already do. That would be a stretch even for me, so shut up," Draco commanded him concentrating on remembering what had been going on that day.

It had been before Potter had actually started making himself useful and took a turn for the crazy by starting to stay the night in Draco's room. They had been walking between classes, with Potter stomping down the hall on his right side, Weasley on his left, Hermione at his front, and Seamus at his back. It had been business as usual; he had made sure of it, taking note of the group of Slytherins walking away from them in a particularly worrying group, consisting of Sixth and Seventh Years. A set of Ravenclaws was centered around the left stained glassed window discussing Flitwick's class, but besides that, all the other students walked around in groups of two or three. Except, _there_, Draco remembered. He concentrated on the memory of the little Second Year girl with brown curls and blue eyes. She had been talking with one of the Greengrass girls and had laughed at some joke she had been told. She had walked ahead of the other girl, pushing past two Gryffindor First Years that were in her way.

"I know what's wrong with him," Draco said looking at Harry with knotted brows.

"What? What are you talking about?" Harry asked with an urgency that betrayed how willing he was to hear out anything as long as it helped his friend, even if it came from ferret face Malfoy.

"There was a Second Year from Slythering that walked past us; she tripped. Do you remember? She made it seem like it had been the Gryffindor's fault. Except, she dropped a quill she had been holding, and Weasley gave it back to her, but she wouldn't take it. Then, Greengrass told Weasley no Slytherin would think to touch something dirtied by a blood traitor," said Draco.

"Why would a quill have anything to do with this?" Harry asked in confusion.

Draco slapped him upside the head, "Potter, even you can't be that daft. It's poison, you idiot. I could have told you that the moment you told me Weasley was foaming at the mouth; the question is what kind and why. The why is easy now; I've no doubt Greengrass talked the girl into throwing a quill at me laced with poison. It makes sense, if you think about it. No one would think anything of a quill, especially coming from a twelve-year-old girl. I _told _the Headmaster something like this was bound to happen."

Harry pushed off the wall and stood up, "I have to tell Dumbledore."

"Don't be an idiot," Draco caught a hold of his sleeve. "The Headmaster is no doubt already at St. Mungo's. Your best shot is going to Snape. Whatever poison it was, he will be the one most likely to recognize it. I will bet you a thousand galleons that a potion did this."

Harry grabbed a hold of his bag and tore through it, trying to find the Marauder's map, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

"Potter, you're wasting time. What are-"

"Don't think too much, Malfoy. You might sprain your brain. There!" Harry cried out in triumph, catching sight of Snape's dot moving about near the Great Hall.

Draco leaned forward, peering over Harry's shoulder, "That single thought must have had a long and lonely trip. Potter, what type of dark magic-"

"Shut up," Harry said, standing, "I have to go."

Draco watched him start to walk away, turning back to retrieve his tea. A finger's length away, his body was yanked forcefully up. He turned around ready to snap Potter's head off, "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

"Are you coming?" Harry asked him, not waiting for an answer and pulling him along.

"Potter, Potter stop," Draco pulled free. "Where are you taking me?"

"We're going to the Great Hall. We're going to go see Professor Snape, and you're going to tell him exactly what you just told me. He's going to believe you, and you will actually be able to answer his questions. Whereas, if I go alone, he's just going to give me detention and tell me that I must have forgotten to pay this month's brain bill." He stared at Draco's eyes and pleaded, "Malfoy, I know that you hate me, and I promise I won't bregudge you the many insults you throw my way after this, but please do this for me. My best friend's life is-"

Draco looked away, uncomfortable with that stupid soft look Potter was giving him, "Yeah, alright, twinkle-toes."

Without giving him time to change his mind, Harry got a hold of his arm and dragged him down the hall. He had them racing through the many corridors until they finally made it. Harry practically barrelled through the door, pushing past it and calling out for Snape the minute he came out. They were both flushed and sweaty, but it was to Malfoy's credit that he didn't stop to say anything but proceeded to where Snape was standing. He related everything in detail, letting him know what he thought had happened. Snape looked grim and turned to ask Harry questions about Weasley's symptoms. After hearing all Potter had to say, he nodded and hurried off in the direction of the dungeons. He gathered some potions that could be possible antidotes and strode into his into his office, taking a hand full of floo powder, and disappeared, hoping to make it in time to save Ron Weasley's life.

As soon as they had been left alone, Draco once again retreated into the safety of the hidden passages. Harry followed him, though he was shaking noticeably. Draco could practically read the guilt on his face; the bloody moron, of course, felt responsible for having a manipulated child accidentally almost murder his friend. His stupid Gryffindor-ish-ness thing, whatever the fuck you were supposed to call it, was fucking annoying. There was no way the idiot was supposed to know that Weasley was being slowly poisoned. It was Draco's best guess that Weasley had been using the quill, thinking nothing about any possible consequences; even Draco was forced to admit that in that situation, he wouldn't have bothered to screen for possible deathly threats. It took a Slytherin family to be ruthless enough to use their own children as tools for murder, and there was no way that a Gryffindor, believing in rose petals and seeing the good in someone, would have thought anything like that would happen.

"Fuck," Draco let out being knocked down suddenly next to the wall. "Shit, Potter..."

Harry was smack in the middle of some sort of magical freak out. Wind was rushing around him, though they were inside, and sparks started off at random directions, crashing into each other and fizzling. Then, some type of force hit the ground hard, making the stone rumble and crack slightly near Harry's left wall. He looked scared above the rushing sound of his magic; Draco cried out to him trying to get his attention, only to have his head smacked against the wall. Trying to recenter himself, Harry closed his eyes, but it didn't help. He couldn't control his magic, and he had tired himself out earlier in the day training with Snape. He had no clue what was going on, but it felt like it did when his magic responded to Snape at the end of their meetings. The difference was, Snape could actually control his magic, knew how to use certain spells that would bind it to his body and stop it from causing mayhem. Harry really doubted that Malfoy had any clue as to how to do that.

In fact, Draco didn't know how to do that. He didn't know what the hell was going on, except that his head hurt and when he tried to stand up, he was knocked down on one knee by the force of some type of bubble around Potter. It took Draco a second to realize that Potter's magic was protecting him, somehow getting out of his control because Harry was scared and felt threatened. Not knowing what else to do, Draco pushed himself up and tried to walk through, making it a few steps before he was knocked on his ass. Now he was pissed. Pushing off the ground, Draco took off with a running start and knocked Harry off his feet, noting with satisfaction that in his surprise, everything was quiet around Potter again.

"Ouch, Potter, stop it!" Draco ordered him, cradling his injured hand shocked away from Harry's body by another pull of magic.

"I'm trying," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"Take out your wand and point it at your stomach," Draco told him, pushing down on it hard once it was in place. He was hoping that the pain would distract Potter and stop whatever it was that was going on, "Now focus all of your energy at your core. Come on, channel it through your wand and make it stop. Focus, Potter."

Harry winced but tried to do as he was told. He started taking in bigger breaths, calming himself down, trying to put all of his magic back into place. When he had done it, he allowed his head to fall on the floor, exhausted. He was shaking and felt he had too much sugar or maybe not enough to eat. Beside him, Draco was shaking his head and moving his wrist, making sure nothing was broken. He glared at Potter and said, "You're bloody useless, aren't you. How are you supposed to beat the Dark Lord when you can't control your own magic? Honestly."

"How did you know how to do that?" Harry asked sitting up.

"Parents do that when their children are first starting to come into their magic; it's so that it doesn't get dangerous, and no one gets hurt if the child is throwing a tantrum. That's supposed to happen when you're _six, _Potter," said Draco. "Now, thanks to you, I'm going to have to go get another cup of tea."

"Alright," Harry said standing up and dusting himself off, "I'm going back to Gryffindor to tell Hermione what happened and see if there's any way we can get to St. Mungo's."

The thing was, Draco contemplated a few minutes later sipping his tea in front of his fireplace. There was no way that Potter and Granger were going to get to St. Mungo's any time soon. The Headmaster couldn't leave the hospital until he was sure that his charge was going to be alright, which would take some time since Professor Snape had to figure out what potion had been used in order to determine the right antidote. Then, they had to see if Weasley responded well to the medicine, or if he had a reaction to it, which wasn't uncommon. Of course, the family would get there and detain Dumbledore by asking him exactly what had happened. If they were in the Order of the Phoenix, and honestly, naming a secret society after a fucking _bird_, then Dumbledore would let them know about Draco, which would take forever to get straightened out, especially with a bunch of ex-Gryffindors asking the questions. They were all so desperately slow.

No, they wouldn't make it to St. Mungo's any time soon unless Draco helped them, and he was trying to decide if he was that selfless. He had dismissed the idea as soon as it popped into his head, but the stupid, desperate look Potter had given him kept coming up in his mind, and he knew that he would have the idiot eating out of his palm if he did this. Sighing, Draco set his tea down and walked out of his rooms in the direction that Potter had walked away earlier. He made himself start thinking about his family and what his mother must have been going through because of him. This was the only way he knew to get Potter to come to him, so he could tell him his idea. Whenever Potter thought something was wrong, he was sure to show up, trying to make it better through sheer will of force. Here was hoping that those senseless protective instincts didn't let Draco down.

His plan was simple; he was going to open up the floo, so that they could get out of the castle and into St. Mungo's. He had learned that trick the previous year when he had been relating to his father some stupid thing or other that Umbridge had done that had almost ended up with him getting hurt. His father had been so infuriated with the toad of a woman that he had asked Draco to wait while he retrieved a book. He had returned and asked Draco to repeat an incantation then to focus on where he wanted to go, so that he could go through the fireplace and tell his father everything that had been going on without the danger of anyone hearing them. It was a simple spell not many knew of, because it teetered on the line between Dark and Light magic. The spell momentarily overrode anyone else's magic, allowing the caster to do as they wished. In that instant, whoever was in charge could cast any number of spells, like the Imperius Curse, which was why there had been much controversy about whether it should be banned or not. However, there were never enough votes to deem it illegal, so it had simply faded out of popularity with the turn of the century. In reality, it was a perfectly useful tool and was completely harmless if used the way Draco was planning on using it. He was just hoping that Granger wouldn't give him a lecture on using an incantation which could be dangerous, if she knew of it, anyway.

As expected, Potter showed up a few minutes later, coming to a surprise halt when he saw Draco approaching him down one of the halls, "Is everything alright, Malfoy?"

"Yes, everything is alright. Now, go back and get Granger and come to my rooms."

"Why?" Harry asked suspiciously.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Because I have a way to get you to St. Mungo's. Although, if you don't want to, then forget I said an-"

"No no," Harry halted him. "Are you serious?"

"No, Potter, I'm secretly laughing at you inside my head."

"Okay," Harry nodded, "We'll be right there."

Draco returned to his rooms and searched for the small ornate dish containing some of his hidden floo powder. He set it by the fireplace and threw a pinch into the fire, making it ready for transportation without having to turn it off. Almost as soon as he was finished, Potter and Granger showed up stepping through his open door, gasping like beached walruses, obviously having run the entire way there. Hermione's eyes were bloodshot and her face was all blotchy, though her hair was thankfully pulled back into a neat braid. Potter was looking as savage as always, and Draco was sure that his hair was going to start hissing at him at any moment.

"Go on, then," Draco ordered them into the fireplace.

Both she and Harry stepped closer, Hermione going through first. She took a moment to stare out at him, saying in a choked voice, "Malfoy, I will never forget this."

Draco nodded and passed them both the dish, avoiding Potter's eyes as he took a handfull of the powder, "Wait for me to finish the incantation. As soon as I'm done, concentrate on where you want to go; it might be helpful to think about wanting to get to Weasley as well, since you don't know the coordinates of the hospital's fireplaces. Don't muck it up, and don't scratch my fireplace with your claws, Potter."

Harry shook his head at him but said nothing, waiting with anticipation as Draco took out his wand and started chanting a spell he had never heard of. Amidst the green flames, Hermione frowned and her face tightened, but she too said nothing, the idea of breaking an unwritten law fading into the background in her urgency to see Ron. As soon as Draco finished, she threw down her powder and shouted, "St. Mungo's," spinning and fading away. Potter stepped followed her, saying a quick, "Thank you, Malfoy," before he too threw down his powder and left to see his friend.

iIiIiI

When Harry stepped through the fireplace, Hermione had already flagged down a nurse and was getting directions. He dusted his clothes off and followed her, "Do you know where we're going?"

"They should have him in intensive care right now. It should be another floor up and two turns to the left," Hermione said, walking rapidly towards the stairs.

"Hermione,everything is going to be fine, right?" Harry asked his friend taking the steps two at a time.

Hermione looked at him and swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, "I really hope so, Harry."

When they finally made it, a clan or redheads was sitting in the waiting room, watching anxiously as mediwizards and nurses went in and out of room 225. Harry thought that he had caught sight of a flash of red hair before the door closed again. They made their way to the Weasleys, and Hermione called out to them, getting their attention. Mrs. Weasley rushed at them, looking worried, "How did you manage to get here? Dumbledore said that he had left you back at the castle."

"That's really not important right now, Mrs. Weasley. How is Ron?" Hermione asked her looking at the closed door with worry.

Mrs. Weasley's face scrunched up and she clenched her teeth, trying to hold back her tears, "I really don't know, Hermione. They-" her voice cracked, "mediwizards and mediwitches have been going in and out of there, taking blood and checking on him, but they haven't told us anything yet."

Mr. Weasley walked over to them, and grabbed Hermione's hand, "Dumbledore told us that it was you who took our Ron to the infirmary. Thank you, Hermione. I don't know what we would have done if he, if he-"

"Please don't say it," Hermione pleaded, putting the heel of her hand to her mouth, biting her lip.

Harry walked over to the twins who were for once somber and pale, "How's it going guys?"

"Alright," Fred answered looking at his hands.

"Have they said anything about what might have caused it?" Harry asked.

"Draco was right," Mr. Weasley came to sit down by them, looking very tired. "It was some type of poison."

"Dumbledore got Professor McGonagall to go through Ron's things and bring back the quill. The doctors and Snape are off somewhere testing it; we think that they found something out, because they have been carrying several of the same type of potions," George told him, grabbing his mom's hand as she sat down next to him.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head and wiped at her eyes with Mr. Weasley's handkerchief, "I kow that it's horrible what that boy is going through, but I am so _thankful _to him. Fist, he saved your life, Harry, and now here he is saving my Ron's."

"I can't believe it either," Fred said. "Harry, how did he know that it was poison?"

"It was his best guess," Harry answered. "He's got a great memory, and he remembered that a Slytherin Second Year tripped by us the other day. He thinks that she was aiming to get the quill to hit him, but it fell short. Ron bent down to pick it up, but the little girl wouldn't take it back."

"A Second Year," Mrs. Weasley breathed out in disbelief, "But who would employ a _child _to try and mu-murder an innocent boy?"

"Only a Slytherin," Hermione said quietly, staring at the door as if it would open at any second.

The wait seemed interminable. There was a constant flurry of action, but no one could give them a clear answer about what was going on. It wasn't until an hour and a half after Harry and Hermione's arrival that a mediwitch exited Ron's room and let them know that though he would be feeling weak and sore for some time to come, Ron was out of danger. They were allowed to go see him three at a time; Harry pushed Hermione to go in with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, waiting his turn to walk in with Fred and George. When they got it, Harry's stomach sank. Ron looked really weak and his skin was pallid making his fiery hair stand out all the more. The twins inspected him from a distance, nodding their satisfaction at the steady beat of his heart on the monitor. There were what seemed to be small burn marks around the outside of his mouth, which though red, really weren't all that bad.

When they were all together again outside the room, they were told that the poison had done that. Apparently, it had been seeping through Ron's skin a little at a time every time he used it. It had been a good thing that Ron hadn't noticed immediately that the quill had been dropped, because that particular poison was meant to react instantly when it came into touch with someone's skin, causing near instantenous death. After a couple of moments, the poison diluted but still remained deadly if someone came into contact with it for long periods of time, like Ron. They had dispatched clean up crews to Hogwarts to make sure that it wasn't dangerous for the other students, but now that they actually had the quill, they had not doubt that whatever might be found wouldn't be more dangerous than a simple stinging hex. The mediwitch had said in a voice full of wonder that it was lucky that whoever brewed the potion the quill was coated in didn't have Professor Snape's finesse, or right now more than one would be in peril.

It was Snape who had provided the antidote; he saved Ron's life, again. Harry was looking forward to the day when they wouldn't need Snape's help, when none of them would be in danger of being murdered, including Malfoy. It had shaken him to know that the quill had meant business, meant to kill of Draco in seconds. That wasn't okay. It wasn't okay at all. Harry could only imagine what would have happened if those First Years had been walking a little further away from them, or if Malfoy had been walking closer to Ron than to him. It was truly lucky that Draco had been a bastard and stepped away from Ron using, "I don't want to catch the poor," as his excuse.

Wherever else his mind might have wondered, Harry would never know. At that moment, Professor Dumbledore came around the corner, and Harry's magic immediately started reacting to him. In complete surprise, Dumbledore erected a shield around the Weasleys and asked Arthur to follow him around the corner, away from Harry. Dumbledore ordered Mr. Weasley to escort Harry back to the castle via floo. He told him to be very careful with Harry, to make sure that he wasn't agitated, and left to open up a floo connection to his office. He had no idea how Harry and Hermione had gotten there, but at the moment it was more important to make sure that everyone, including Harry was safe. He shouldn't be exposed to strong witches or wizards, especially with his magic fluctuating as it was. So, he prepared a fireplace and hid away until such a time as it was once again safe for him to offer his condolances to the Weasleys.

iIiIiI

"Wow, you're like a plauge. I keep trying to get away from you, but you just keep coming back," Draco said smoothening down his pijama top in front his door.

"Diarrhea of the mouth; constipation of the mind. Move out of the way," Harry instructed him, setting a bag filled with clothes down next to the door and going over to the sofa to drop off his pillow and blanket.

After returning to the castle, he had bid Mr. Weasley goodnight and had promised to go to the hospital as soon as he was allowed. He had made a quick stop in Gryffindor letting everyone know that Ron was out of danger before going into his room and grabbing his things. His friends thought he was suicidal but said nothing after he had explained that he kept sleeping over at Draco's place as a precautionary measure. He didn't think that Draco would appreciate them knowing that he was doing it for the Slytherin's benefit, so he kept his mouth shut. As it was, Harry owed Draco not only his life but Ron's. If he could do anything to make Draco feel better, he was more than willing to, especially now that he was so indebted. That did not, however, mean he was going to take the blond's shit.

"You have the IQ of lint, Potter," Draco told him settling himself on the armchair. "How's Weasley?"

Harry sighed sitting down as well, "He's doing better. He will have to stay in the hospital for the next few days, but he's out of danger. You were right; it was poison."

"Of course I was right. I thought we had discussed this, Potter. I am perfect, while you make small trolls cry with how ugly you are."

"It was meant to kill you in a couple of seconds," Harry said shaking his head.

Draco nodded, "That makes sense. I have been thinking about who might be behind it; I was coming up blank until I remebered the girl's name. Lucy McDonell is the daughter of Rose McDonell, distantly related the Greengrass family and allied with them for centuries. Roger Greengrass has been previously accused of having poisoned his previous boss before gaining leadership of the company he works at. The charges were dropped, but everyone knows he did it. It's my best guess that the two families united and tried to attack together."

"How can you be so calm, Malfoy?" Harry asked him, the necklance on his chest no warmer than usual.

"It's Weasley that's in a hospital right now, not me, Potter. Besides, I expected this. More like this will come, rash and stupid. Nothing like that is going to work in a place like this; I'm just going to sit tight and wait for the real threats to come," Draco said, afraid but convinced he still had time before anyone got close enough to him to do some real harm.

"For the life of me, I cannot understand how someone would use their own children to try and advance themselves for mere power."

"Well, no, you wouldn't, you stupid Gryffindor."

Harry threw his pillow at the blond git and stood up, "Ron would have died without you."

"Calm down, crazy, and sit," Draco said already becoming familiar with that dumb look that made Potter look like he was twelve. "What are you doing?"

Harry extended his hand, waiting for him to take it, "Shake my hand, Malfoy."

Draco stood up, glancing down at his hand warily, before taking it in his own. To his surprise, Harry shook it, while at the same time pulling him closer. The stupid idiot fit his head on Draco's shoulders and breathed out emotionally, "Thank you."

"This is not okay," Draco said, taking a step back. He could deal with a smartass Potter who wanted to kill him at any given second, but he had no idea what to do with a genuinely emotional one. "I'm going to bed."

Harry nodded and retrieved his pillow, saying casually, "I think I'm going to transfigure the couch into a bed. I was thinking that maybe I would start staying every night here, so that we can actually get some sleep."

Draco frowned; of course Potter would do something selfless like that, trying to make up in whatever little way he could for Draco having to save both him and Ron. Shaking his head, Draco settled into his pillows. "Suit yourself. Although, hey, Potter," he said in a gentle voice.

"Yeah?" Harry turned to look at him curiously.

"Do you still love nature, even though it messed up so badly with you?"

"Git," Harry said, punching his pillow and laying down, Draco's laugh sounding in the dark.

iIiIiI

Hey, everyone! Thanks for reading and THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR GETTING ME UP TO 50 REVIEWS. You are all so AWESOME. Let's see if we can make it past 60 this time :). Thank you for kicking my butt and letting me know that I have to proof read more closely. You all rock. Let's see if I do a better job this time. What did you like? What didn't you like? Let me know, and PLEASE REVIEW!

Aly


	7. Chapter 7

"Do you know what I wonder?" Harry asked, his feet propped against the wall by the fireplace.

"How it can possibly be that you were born with opposable thumbs?" Draco responded looking away from his book for a moment.

They had been forced to spend two entire days together away from everyone else. Hours after Harry had returned from the hospital, Professor Dumbledore had come back to the castle and sought him out set on binding his powers. That move had led to two broken ribs, both Harry's, and the Headmaster losing a rather smashing set of spectacles. They had tried it again hours later only to have the Headmaster thrown against a wall and a pair of Draco's trousers cast into the fireplace. The incident resulted in a cataclysmic argument which ended with Harry being punched in the nose and Draco coming out with a bloody lip. Of course the argument hadn't been about the burned pants, but about the metaphorical implication they had on Draco's quickly deteriorating life. Even Harry wasn't thick enough not to see that.

Draco didn't know what made him do it, but seeing Potter's stupid, apologetic face amid his things, destroying everything he had left, made him angry, angrier than he had been in a long time. He wasn't sure how it happened but his hands were suddenly aching and a resounding, satisfying cruch filled the room. He had time to smile in triumph before Potter crashed into him, carrying both to the ground. As lunatic as the stupid fight had been, it had been the best thing that had happened to Draco in a long time. He had needed it, needed that release, needed to thrust his anger into somebody. The fact that it was Potter was just an extra bonus; it was his fault, after all. It was his bloody fault, because he was the only one stupid enough to think that a freezing lake was going to be enough to eradicate his hair from the face of the earth. It was his bloody fault that Draco would never get to see his family or the home that he had grown up in. It was his bloody fault that Draco felt like his chest was caving in with worry when Whetfield and Leonard Flint looked at him for prolonged periods of time when they walked down the hall as if trying to figure out the pattern they followed to protect him. It was his bloody fault that Draco thought and rethought the same fucking anathema at night before Potter showed up to try and make it all better. Well, it wasn't better, and now Potter had gone and messed up his pants, and he had been pissed.

They had both been bloody and sweaty by the end of it, and Potter had looked more like himself than he had done since all of this mess had started. For those few moments when they had stared each other down, Potter looked just as pissed at him as Draco was. There was no friendliness in those eyes, nothing that resembled the friendly demeanor he had taken for the last couple of weeks. However, he had taken a deep breath and his eyes had softened. He had bid Draco go out to Dumbledore and tell him that it wasn't safe for any of them for the Headmaster to try to bind his powers and adviced that Draco go to the infirmary to get mended up. Draco had rolled his eyes at fucking Potter's ridiculous _selflessness_ and punched the wall before walking out and relating the message to Dumbledore. In the end, they had both been sent to Madame Pomfrey, and Dumbledore, not having seen the fight, had asked Harry to stay in Draco's chambers until he was rested enough for his magic to settle. They had said nothing to each other until the end of the first day when Harry had apologized for the pants and Draco had cursed him out, yelling at him for being such a blasted _Gryffindor_. The next morning, Draco had woken Harry with a smack of a pillow to his face and a cup of coffee. They hadn't mentioned what had happened since.

Shifting his body so that he could see the blond, Harry smiled, "No, you sarcastic ass. I was wondering how Seers and centaurs can gaze up at the skies and tell the future."

"Well, first of all, you're an idiot," Draco said setting his book aside next to his bed, "Seers don't look up at the sky for information, Potter. They can see it inside their minds or in dreams. As for the centaurs, Ludlow Van Der Loot has proposed that the race is born with powers that resemble that of Seers. However, they can use an intricate form of mathematics, mainly calculus and geometry I believe, to track the changes in the solar system. From there, they predict what the changes could mean for us humans by using their powers. If you're curious, I'm sure I can dig up the book somewhere."

Harry sat up and looked at him curiously, "How do you know all that?"

"Because unlike you, I'm not possessed by a ghost with mental disabilities," Draco walked over to the trunk at the foot of his bed, searched for the book, and handed it to Potter, "Here. There's some stuff in there that is pure gibberish, but for the most part it's very interesting."

Harry took the book and turned it around watching the cover change from a night sky to a centaur gazing at a distant galaxy with a smile, "Thanks, Malfoy. If you keep this up, I might actually start to think that you're a decent human being."

"Best give it back then," Draco retorted making a swipe for the book.

"Oh, shut up," Harry smiled making sure he put the book behind his back. "It's a wonder that Dumbledore hasn't shown up by now. I'm rested, so it's safe for me to return to the hospital."

"Why precisely is it that your magic is getting out of your control, Potter, and in front of the Headmaster especially?" Draco questioned him with a calculating look.

Harry shrugged and looked away, "One of my many charms."

"Of course," Draco said swallowing with distaste.

"Don't look as if you're about to choke, you git," Harry threw a pillow at him.

"Well, I wouldn't have to worry about that if you left my living quarters, would I?" Draco said going to sit on his bed. "When are you leaving for the holiday?"

"Oh, I hadn't even thought about that. Most everyone must have left by now," he noted. "I guess I'm going to go see Ron as soon as the Headmaster gives me the clear go, and then I'll take off from there. What-"

"Do not be so daft as to ask me what I'm going to do, Potter," Draco warned him with an accusatory finger.

"I wasn't," Harry covered up, thinking quickly. "I was just going to ask you what you were going to need to take with you when we left."

"What?" Draco asked sharply.

"Well, you can't expect to be left here for two and a half weeks, Malfoy. I have been here for two days and I already feel as if I'm a step away from commiting suicide, and-"

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

"_And_ I wouldn't wish it on anyone to have to stay here for that long. So, what do you think?" Harry asked him.

"I think you're the worst-dressed sentient being this side of the Milky Way. Also, you're delusional."

"Why am I delusional now, oh yee with the intelligence of plankton?"

"If you think that I am going to go to your home, then you have another thing-"

"No, I wouldn't take you to the Dursleys. I was thinking we could pop over to the Burrow for a few days," Harry grinned.

Draco narrowed his eyes, "The Burrow? What is that?"

"It's Ron's house. It's absolutely smashing, and even you couldn't-"

"Potter," the Slytherin interrupted him in a cold voice. "There is no way in _hell _that I would set one foot in Weasley's home."

Harry's face fell, and he glared at Malfoy, "Then, would the Order's Headquarters be more to your liking, prince pain in the ass?"

Draco couldn't help it; a laugh escaped him, "Potter, you really are so dense light bends around you. There is no way that Dumbledore is going to allow me to join you in your merry celebrations in his hidden society's headquarters."

"Why not?" Harry asked more than a little affronted.

"Why _would _he? I certainly wouldn't. What, having around a cunning Slytherin whose father is the Dark Lord's right hand man sneaking about a place like that? There is no way he could go for it."

"But you swore an Unbreakable Vow," Harry pointed out. "There's no danger of that happening. Besides, there should be so many people there that there would be no way you could find out anything. We've been trying for months and have gotten nowhere. Even if you did manage to learn something, the vow wouldn't allow you to do anything with the information."

"Did it hurt your brain just then to form actual sentences?" Draco asked, annoyance making his voice a little more malicious than it otherwise might have been.

Both turned their attention to the opening door watching as Dumbledore greeted them with a sunny smile, "Hello there. Before you ask, Harry, Mr. Weasley is recovering fantastically in St. Mungo's. The mediwizards feel comfortable enough with how he's responding to the potions that they are allowing him to go home for the holiday. Mrs. Weasley will have to keep a careful eye that he takes his medicine, but I'm sure that you and I both know that won't be a problem."

"That's great," Harry smiled. "Are they all going to be joining us at Headquarters then?"

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded looking at Draco for a second, "I take it you have told Mr. Malfoy here a little about Grimmauld Place?"

"Yeah, I have. I've told him no one will mind if he joins us there. Isn't that right, Professor?" Harry glanced at Malfoy and then back at the Headmaster.

"Indeed," Dumbledore said softly to Draco's apparent surprise. "A startling number of Slytherins have decided to stay for the holiday. I think it best that we do not give them any more opportunity to act than we can help."

"Wait, so you're going to take me to your Headquarters, just like that?" Draco walked over them.

Dumbledore smiled, "Well, it's a bit more complicated than that. We will have to go through the ritual, making you vow once again not to divulge anything, and then we will go through the debacle that promises to be your arrival. I imgine the Weasley twins will play some pranks and Hermione will shout at them, and that's all before dinner. I think you should start getting yourself prepared."

Harry took a second to smirk at Draco's frowning countenance and taunted, "Yeah, Malfoy. Listen to the Professor. We wouldn't want your feminine Pureblood sensibilities to let you down among all of us lower life forms."

Draco recovered and raised an eyebrow, "So you finally agree that you're lower than me?"

"Malfoy!"

"Well, I will leave you to it, then," Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat and shook his head. "Harry, Dob- one of the house elves already taken your trunk to Grimmauld Place. If you will be so kind, will you please escort Mr. Malfoy to my office when he is finished packing and the house elves take his luggage as well? I'm glad to see you're doing better, by the by."

"So am I, Professor," Harry responded. Once the Headmaster was gone, Harry turned to stare at Malfoy with a satisfied grin, "Told you."

"And I've told _you_, you're the first in your family to be born without a tail," Draco pushed past him and began packing. "Will I be needing dress robes?"

"No. Why would you need dress robes?" Harry asked him going over to the fireplace to pick up the book Malfoy had given him.

"For the Christmas Day ball," Draco said as if it was obvious. "What? Why are you giving me that look? Don't you all have a-"

"Nope," Harry shook his head.

Draco took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Figures."

"Don't look so upset, Malfoy. I'm sure we can find you a nice boy to dance with," Harry joked.

Draco stood up and glared at him, "What you lack in intelligence, you make up for ten-fold with stupidity."

"Hmm," Harry pondered, "I can tell you're lying. Your lips are moving."

"Idiot."

"Arse."

iIiIiI

Everything the Headmaster had predicted came to fruitition as if planned. Mrs. Weasley greeted them before anyone else had heard them arrive and had handed Draco a handkerchief with the Weasley family emblem followed by some words in a different language. Much to Harry's confusion and Dumbledore's quiet approval, Draco had taken it and responded, more out of customary politeness than anything else. He had not expected the Weasley matriarch to give him thanks in the old custom, giving him her family's emblem as a sign of both gratitude and alliance. She had even spoken in her family's old language, for her German, and said the words with a fluency that surprised Draco. His father had made the Weasleys all sound like such blithering idiots that he would have never thought that one of them could show so much Pureblooded poise.

"No matter what anyone says, Draco, you are welcome in this home," Mrs. Weasley said with a teary smile.

Draco nodded and looked past her shoulder where Remus Lupin was walking in. He greeted Draco with a warm smile and extended his hand, shaking the Slytherin's as if he didn't see the hesitance in his eyes. Everyone else followed after that, coming to him with various degrees of welcome. The twins nodded at thim, regarding him with guarded acceptance, and Hermione said hello warmly. For her at least, there was no longer any question about Draco's position as part of the Light. He had saved Ron's life, and though she knew he wouldn't stop acting like a prat, that was enough for her to try and look past almost all of his jabs. The rest of the adults were fascinating, including Mad-Eye and Kingsley Shacklebolt, a man his father had commented the Dark Lord wanted to own. Nymphadora Tonks, his cousin, he knew, stared back at him with the same curiosity he showed her. Breaking the tension, she winked at him and transformed her hair to the same white blond shade as Malfoy and changed her features and her eyes to match his own. Everyone had laughed at his surprise, and with a wicked grin, Tonks spared him and changed back to herself, shockingly pink hair and all.

Like clockwork, the twins started going around the room making random things call out to everyone in rude voices. At one point, they set Hermione's hair on fire, calming her down through their laughs by passing their hands through the innocent green flames. Catching Dumbledore's knowing eye, Draco listened to Hermione tear into them, demanding they stop the nonsense and act their age. One look from Mrs. Weasley had them complying, though they continued their games until dinner was announced. They stayed clear from Malfoy, though Draco was not sure if it was because they didn't know what to make of him yet, if they were stopped by him having helped save their brother's life, or if Potter's glare had anything to do with it. For his part, Harry had remained by Draco's side, joining in on the joking from his seat on the couch, sounding happier and more relaxed than Draco could ever remember hearing him sound.

When dinner was served, a pale and frail looking Ron joined them at the table having apparently just woken up. He regarded Draco with unease, nodding at him before trying to get a rise out of his mother, making everyone at the table laugh. Mrs. Weasley indulged him and only gave him a careful pat on the head when she passed him as she made her way around the table making sure everyone had a full plate to eat.

"Not so bad, is it?" Harry asked Draco a few minutes into the meal.

"Did House Elves make this?" Draco asked instead of answering Harry's question.

Harry glanced at the animated way Draco was carrying his fork from his plate to his mouth, "Why? Do you like it?"

"They might possibly be better than the ones we have at the Manor," Draco asserted in a low voice.

Harry laughed and took a bite of his own food, "I'll pass the compliments on to Mrs. Weasley."

Draco paused with his fork midway to his mouth, "What? You mean she _made _this?"

"Yes."

"But she's a woman," Draco said.

"I think I might have to agree with you on that one," Harry grinned.

"No, I mean, she has no place in a kitchen. She's a pureblood; shouldn't she have at least servants to do this? Her ancestors would die of shame a second time if they knew of this," Draco said putting his fork down.

"Shut up and enjoy it," Harry scolded him. "If you don't eat, it will hurt her feelings."

"But it is a disgrace for me to-"

"Malfoy, eat," Harry stopped him, not halting his glare until Malfoy conceded and continued his meal.

That night, Draco watched in awkward silence as Harry joked around with his friends, doing his best to include him. It was pathetic, really, how he kept prompting Draco to join the conversation though no one else seemed particularly keen on what his thoughts were on the twins' newest flavor of puking pastries. Eventually, he had saved them all the trouble by quietly asking if he could use the restroom, bent on finding the Headmaster, or even Mrs. Weasley, to ask where his room would be for the evening. On the way to the kitchen, however, he made a wrong turn and instead came to a corridor where a large portrait showed a sleeping older woman who vaguely reminded him of the old photographs his mother had of his aunt Bellatrix, whom he had never met in real life. As he watched her, the woman's eyes blinked open, immediately settling on him with a venomous look.

"What new vermin have these dirty blood traitors brought into my home?" Mrs. Black called out to anyone within a fifteen foot radius.

"I am Draco Malfoy. With whom do I have the pleasure?" he asked glancing around to make sure no one had been attracted by the noise.

"A Malfoy," Mrs. Black contemplated. "Finally a Pureblood among all of these sullied human beings. I am Madame Black. Of whom were you born?"

"Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black," Draco responded with a ring of pride.

"Narcissa?" the woman asked in surprise. "I know your mother. She is my niece. The last time I saw her, she was a little older than you are now. Yes, you come from good stock, Draco Malfoy. You look a great deal like her."

"Did you know my mother well?" Draco asked, his stomach dropping to a pit in his stomach.

Mrs. Black arranged her dress around her, "Indeed. She was the most well mannered young lady I have ever met, much more so than her sister Bellatrix. She had the same temperament as that other sister of hers, the one that married the Mudblood, sweet to all of her elders."

"Was she very beautiful then as she is now?" he asked.

"Yes- WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOME, YOU VILE CREATURE? YOU HAVE NO RIGHT NOR ARE YOU WELCOMED IN THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BL-"

Harry shut the portrait's curtains, successfully muffling the sound and turned to Malfoy, "Are you alright?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" came the dignified response.

"I just felt the necklace heat, and I thought that maybe something was wrong. No matter, then. Do you need me to show you where the bathroom is?" Harry asked glancing between the portrait and Draco.

"It would be the first useful thing you've done today," Draco intoned.

"Git."

iIiIiI

"So, this is the Black residence," Draco made conversation hours later when they were settling for the night.

The rest of the evening had been a tense ordeal, with everyone, including Ron, trying to go about as if Draco wasn't there. They weren't being rude, precisely, but neither were they engaging Draco in conversation. More than anything, they all looked unsure about how to treat him and followed Harry's lead and continued talking as if nothing was out of the ordinary. At the end of the day, Mrs. Weasley had levitated Ron to the room he was sharing with the twins, telling everyone it was time to go to bed. Ginny had shown up after dinner with Professor McGonagall and incorporated herself seamlessly into the room, telling them a naughty joke she had heard from Dean earlier that day with a saucy smile. She, of course, was sharing a room with Hermione, and both girls had hurried upstairs where they had shut the door and gossipped until Mrs. Weasley had yelled at them to go to bed. Before doing so, however, she showed Draco and Harry to a large room on the second floor with two twin beds. She had bid them good night and had left them to go off and share some coffee with the adults.

"Yeah," Harry said pulling back the covers to his bed. "Did that banshee Mrs. Black let the cat out of the bag?"

"Just one of the less treasured ones. The others she kept near her at all times," Draco said making Harry laugh.

"Feel free to call it home sweet home for the next two weeks," Harry settled into the covers.

Draco allowed his head to hit his pillow, "I don't know how I will contain my excitement."

"It won't be so bad, Malfoy. I promise. Just make sure that you don't sit on any of the furniture the twins put charms on, or you might be walking away with only half your limbs," Harry raised his eyebrows at the Slytherin.

Draco did not look pleased, "Don't give someone like me ideas, Potter. I might just be tempted to make you trip and accidentally land you on one of them."

"It would't work," Harry joked. "Even ravenous furniture loves me."

"Perhaps because it recognizes that if it doesn't let you be, your hair might just start chewing on it," Draco turned away from him, waiting with a smirk for his reply.

"I would like nothing out of you but breathing and very little of that," Harry responded.

"Good one, Potter," Draco conceded.

"Don't say that. You might disturb a time and space paradox," Harry laughed.

"Hmm, fancy that. I didn't know rodents knew such vocabulary."

"Go to bed before my fist accidentally collides with your face, Malfoy," Harry warned him.

"Nox," Draco called out with a smile before closing his eyes.

iIiIiI

"Anything new yet?" Harry asked the twins, laying down on his belly in between Ginny and Crookshanks.

"No, bugger it all," Fred said listening carefully to the static he heard coming from the Extendable Ear. "Dumbledore's found a way to block out the sound by scrambling the area around the room."

"Figures," Ginny sighed. "They never let us have fun."

"You're trying to find information and a plastic ear is the best you have?" Draco asked them in a bored voice leaning against the wall.

George turned and glared at him, "Oh, and I suppose you have a better idea, Malfoy?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," he answered haughtily. "If I succeed, however, you must walk around for the rest of the break with green hair."

"That's a tough bargain, George," said Harry. "Your mum will kill you."

"Do it!" Ginny and Fred cried out in unison.

"Alright," George nodded, "But when you fail, you're going to walk around with Harry's hair."

"Hey!"

Draco glanced down at Potter, "You drive a rough bargain as well, but I agree. Pull up the other end and give it to me."

Everyone watched in silence as Draco took the Ear from them and took out his wand. He placed the tip on one end of the string, running it from one ear to the other, while muttering a spell that made it slightly thicker. Fred and George looked insulted and refused to look at him as he changed the basic design of the ear, making the upper part more concave for better resolution. Draco smirked at them and handed it to Harry, nodding at the banister for him to let it drop. Everyone, including Draco, crowded around as for a second nothing was heard. Then, like magic, Remus' voice was echoing around in crystal clarity a second before Mr. Weasley tripped on the ear coming out and glared up at them. The twins yelled out a quick, "Sorry!," and pulled it back up turning to glance at Draco with impressed faces.

"You modified the connection," said Fred feeling the difference in the connection chord.

Draco nodded, "If you put in a metal rod with a magnet at the end at a ninety degree angle, it will disturb the scrambling electrons put up by the Headmaster's simple spell. Though, I don't imagine it will do you much good now. Your father will probably let Dumbledore know, and it would be my guess that he's going to make it more complicated for you to try and get past it. If you're interested, however, I recommend you read Madame Lexi's _The Science of Deceiving_."

"I'm impressed," Fred nodded before turning to his brother, "You ready mate?"

George closed his eyes and clenched his hands, "Do it."

Before their eyes, George's ridiculously red hair changed to an even more ridiculous shade of green. Draco smirked and said, "Make sure to put up and anti-tinkering jinx."

"What's that for?" Ginny asked with a grin.

"That's so dear, old mummy doesn't end our little fun," Fred answered doing as instructed.

"Smashing," Harry said giving out a tinkling, merry laugh that made Draco roll his eyes.

"Gryffindors," he said shaking his head, "So easy to impress."

iIiIiI

That evening after dinner, all the teenagers were crowded around the back door waiting for the sun to go down. Dumbledore had announced that he deemed it safe for them to play a game of quidditch tonight, since there were no stars out and the moon was hidden behind clouds. Mad-Eye had volunteered to take care of them in a gruff voice along with Tonks who was grinning like a maniac. Even Draco was excited by the prospect and followed everyone to get ready. They all bundled up against the cold December air, putting extra warming spells on their clothes so that they wouldn't end up getting sick. The twins dug up Ron's broom for Draco and handed it to him, since Ron was going to be sitting in the sidelines with Hermione while they all took to the air. Though he protested, the invalid didn't look all that displeased with the situation. He and Hermione had spent the entire day together in his room, and they were smiling at each other in a manner that made Ginny proclaim she was almost to a point where she might throw up in her mouth.

Hearing a loud crash, everyone turned to look at an excited looking Tonks dragging a broom behind her, "I haven't missed you then?"

"No," Ginny said. "Mad-Eye is making sure that it's safe, although by the time that happens I might be as old as he is."

"Honestly, Nymphadora," Mad-Eye shook his head. "You are just as bad as they are."

"Yeah, _Nymphadora_, you're just as bad as we are," Fred said with a satisfied nod.

Tonks grinned and let her hair go a startling shade of red, "Why thank you, Frederick."

When Moody had given them the clear go, they had taken to the sky in a mad rush, separating into two teams with Harry and Draco acting as Seekers. Without the stress of having to win and knowing he was expected to lose, Draco performed admirably going after the snitch a fair bit more aggressively that Harry had expected, almost knocking him off his broom. It had been game on, with everyone going at each other's throats, the biting air forgotten under the bruises and scratches they were getting from performing in the game. They had ended in a tie, going best two out of three matches, with Draco getting the first Snitch and Harry the second. Before they had time to finish the third game, they had all been called inside where they greeted by a large batch of Mrs. Weasley's delicious hot chocolate. Harry nudged Draco until the blond gave in and started drinking, settling into the conversation with rosy cheeks and a satisfied smile. Harry didn't remember a holiday that had started off this fun.

iIiIiI

Four days later, on Christmas day, they were all gathered around the fireplace in the late evening. Mrs. Weasley had made them all wait to open presents until all the members of the Order had arrived. Before they began opening their gifts, though, one of Draco's house elves arrived with presents for everyone there. It was Pureblood custom to exchange gifts with whomever the holiday was spent. He had called a couple of days earlier for his House Elves to get appropriate gifts for everyone, giving them something to do for the first time as head of his own home. They had looked delighted, bowing and thanking him until he sent them away with a smile. House Elves had always amused Draco; they had been his first playmates as a child, and they had always sneaked him sweets when his mother was angry with him and he had cried alone in his room.

Professor Dumbledore had of course been told and had no objections on the condition that he be there when Draco gave the order. They had to be careful to word everything correctly, so that no danger existed that the House Elves might be tricked into divulging any information. Everyone reacted with surprise when the House Elves arrived ladden with the many parcels, all carefully wrapped in beautiful gold and silver paper with the large, ribbon bows tied the same way his mother instructed all of the presents be done. Draco had to glance away for a second, focusing instead on saying it really was no problem and nodding graciously at the compliments Mrs. Weasley was giving him.

For his part, Draco had received presents from a surprising number of people. Dumbledore had given him a pair of socks with pineapples on them that changed colors, giving out a merry laugh at his surprised face. Mrs. Weasley had made him a jumper with a large D in the center, Hermione had given him a book about Runes, the twins had presented him with a box of their jokeshop goods, and Remus had given him a small glass ball that showed his enemies when they were near. By the end, only Harry was left, and he had blushed a soft shade of pink and handed him his present before going off to open his own from Malfoy. Draco admired the handsome leather bound journal and placed it carefully by his side, choosing instead to focus his attention on everyone else in the room. All of his presents seemed to be received with approval. The twins had laughed their heads off when they had gotten the stinky set of potions that they could use for more of their creations; Ginny had admired her new silver brush with a kind smile and had apologized for not getting him anything, to which he replied nothing was necessary. Mrs. Weasley and Dumbledore seemed especially pleased with their gifts, a new recipe book and a large box of candy individually, with the Headmaster inviting everyone to take some while he chewed on some toffee himself.

Harry had sat down next to him, cradling his dragon skin wand holster and said, "I dare to say you're turning soft on us, Malfoy."

"Don't be ridiculous, Potter. I merely have manners. The only soft thing in this room is your head," Draco responded.

"No, no. I think you melted Hermione's heart with that Encyclopedia on magical mysteries. Ron also looks over the moon with his new chess set."

"Well, it's the only thing I've witnessed that he's good at," said Draco.

"Prat."

"Imbecile."

Whatever Harry's response might have been, however, it was drowned out in the arrival of one of Draco's House Elves, who rushed to his side and placed a large gift on his lap, "Weenie comes as soon as it arrived, Master Malfoy. The House Elf put it in Weenie's hands and disappeared, and Weenie comes here."

"Thank you, Weenie. You may return home now," Draco said in a low voice to the smiling House Elf. He would know that wrapping anywhere; all of his presents had been wrapped in the same type of Slytherin green paper since he was born. Draco turned his head to look at Harry and said in a breathless voice, "It's from my mother."

iIiIiI

Hey, everyone! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please REVIEW. Let's see if we can make it to 75 reviews this time. That would make me _so _happy. I hope you all have a great day, and I can't wait to hear from you!

Aly


	8. Chapter 8

"Malfoy?" Harry called out groggily, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

His watch showed it was four in the morning, but Draco showed no signs of sleep. He was sitting on his bed with his back against the headboard, his sheets pooled around his waist. His eyes were focused on the unopened gift he had placed in the middle of the mattress; when he had first received it, it had been immediately taken from him by Lupin and Mad-Eye who were followed by Tonks and Professor Dumbledore out of the sitting area into the kitchen. He had awaited anxiously for their verdict, prepared to accept it wasn't from his mother at all even if his instincts told him otherwise. It was a tough blow to swallow having to admit there was the danger of something from his own parents being hexed or poisoned, to accept there was a possibility that a Dark artifact was waiting for him to touch it, waiting to take his life. Those twenty minutes in which the Weasleys looked at him with a mixture of confusion and pity felt interminable, his shame growing each and every second that it took for the Headmaster to return. Once he did, however, Draco's heart felt like it was going to cave in, his stomach dropped, and he didn't know what would be worse, that it was dangerous or that it was safe.

"Here you are, Mr. Malfoy," Professor Dumbledore had told him handing him the gift with a careful grip.

Draco had stared at it for a few moments before asking to be excused, moving through the crowd and up the stairs until he had made it to the room he shared with Harry. He suddenly needed more air, his tie constricting his breathing. Without thinking, he tore it from his neck and threw it on the floor pulling away his robes. He was hot, too hot, and he was trying to unbutton his shirt with shaking fingers, failing miserably, before hitting the wall in anger. He was sweating and his face felt flushed; running his fingers through his hair, he sat down on the bed bending at the waist to rest his cheeks against his knees. All that kept rushing through his mind was this was too much, too much to take, too much to go through. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing, trying to calm down and forget that a few feet away from him was the only connection he would ever have to his mother.

He had stared at the package for hours unable and unwilling to tear the delicate paper and find out what was inside. When he was younger, Christmas had always been his favorite holiday. His parents would rise early, and he would spend the early morning with them in bed, opening most of his presents. Then, they would get dressed and have a grand lunch, and sometimes his father would even join him in having dessert before their actual meal. In the evening, they would all get dressed in new robes and his mother would look beautiful, jewels shining against her lovely skin. She would bend and cradle him against her, kissing his neck and making him laugh before she straightened his robes and they went to join the Pureblood high society in a night of celebration. They exchanged gifts with everyone and Draco and the other children were taken into a separate room where House Elves and nannies looked after them, making sure they stayed out of trouble. Then, very late at night, they would return home. When his father was taking a shower, his mother would sneak into his room and crawl into bed with him handing him his special gift, a gift wrapped with green paper and tied with ribbon. He would hand her the gift he spent weeks agonizing over, payed with his father's money but bought by one of the House Elves, and they would sit and open their presents telling each other what their favorite things had been all year. Draco's had always been the same midnight whisper: his mom.

Draco tore his eyes away from the parcel and looked at Harry, "I would not have thought it possible, but your hair looks worse now than when you went to sleep. It appears it has been engaging in battle with your pillow."

"What are you doing awake so late?" Harry asked ignoring the insult.

"Oh, you know," Draco waved a hand, "Just fancied not getting any sleep. Day after Christmas and all that."

"Malfoy, I don't want to intrude-"

"Then don't," said Draco.

"Oh, alright. Good night, then," Harry answered biting his lip.

Draco sighed loudly and rolled his eyes, "_What_, Potter?"

"I just thought that maybe," Harry said with some hesitance, "it wouldn't be so bad if you actually _opened _it, you know? That way you won't be driving yourself mad with what it could be. Of course, you don't have to listen to me. I mean, I'm no one to tell you what to do. I just thought I should tell you-"

"Stop rambling, Potter," Draco commanded. "That's actually not a half bad idea."

"Well," Harry said glancing between the gift and Malfoy, "are you going to do it, then?"

Draco nodded and scooted forward onto his knees. Potter, bless him, actually completed a thought that wasn't complete nonsense. He was right; Draco was driving himself mad about what it could be. The idea that there was something in there telling him how disappointed she and his father were in him made it almost impossible for him to pull back the wrapping though his fingers were practically aching to. He shook his head at his own stupidity and pulled the ribbon, letting it drop on the bed before carefully pulling the paper away to reveal a white box. The lid had a cursive, silver D engraved on it which made him smile. It had been the same way since he was born. Opening it, he pulled up the lid and let out a deep breath. Gingerly, he pulled out the silver stuffed dragon, still, after all of these years, wearing silver bells on its hind leg. Draco turned it carefully in his hands, until he came to the necklace hanging from its neck.

"What is it?" Harry asked sitting at the edge of his bed.

Draco glanced up from the large, round diamond and looked at him, "It is nothing more and nothing less than the Malfoy line."

Harry scratched his head, "Umm, it looks like a jewel to me, Malfoy."

Draco let out a startled chuckle, "This is no mere _jewel_, idiot. This is a diamond, passed down the Malfoy line one at a time to be given at the time of matrimony. It was part of my mother's ring."

"Oh."

"She wants me to have it so that I too may pass it on," Draco said, softly handling the chain upon which it hung.

"It's very beautiful," said Harry. "Could I see it?"

"Just don't put it near your hair; it might mistake it for food," Draco told him before handing it to him. Pulling his arm back, his elbow accidentally tipped the box making an envelope fall out.

While Harry examined the necklace, Draco picked up the note with breathless anticipation. Nothing was written on the outside of the envelope, and when he first opened the letter, nothing appeared to be there. Once Draco's fingers graced over the page, however, his mother's elegant handwriting appeared. In just a few lines, obviously written in a hurry if the stain marks were any indication, she related how _proud _she was to call him her son, and how he should not worry for anyone but himself. She assured him that his father was doing fine and that she was finding her own situation acceptable. He was to take care of himself, to work as closely with Dumbledore and Harry Potter as he possibly could. She trusted that the Dark Lord would fall and that once again she would be able to see his face. In her closing line, she reassured him that she loved him with all of her heart, and that her favorite thing all year, her favorite thing all her life, had not changed: it was him.

Draco dropped the letter and turned to sit with his back against the wall. His eyes were stinging, tears clouding his vision, because his mother had not been so frank since he was a child, and she would have no reason to risk her life to send him a note if it were not all his fault. He pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes, trying to stem the flow with little success. Beside him, Draco felt the bed dip as Harry settled next to him. Glancing at him, Draco exhaled one breathy sob before turning to look forward as tears trailed down his face. The words on the letter had disappeared again, and he trailed a finger over the parchment to make them reappear, rereading the words there through his blurry vision. Harry took the chain and gently laid it on top of the letter and gathered the stuffed toy and set it on Draco's lap. Without saying another word, he waited in the silence while Draco tried to control himself, the burning necklace against chest a reminder of what he was going through.

Draco blushed through his tears and swiped at his eyes. He stared in surprise as Harry's hand wrapped around his wrist, making him stop. The other boy released Draco's hand on top of the dragon's head and shook his head at him, a clear indication for him not to do it again. Taking in a deep breath, Draco allowed his posture to sag, as quiet sobs were torn from his body making him feel as if he was old, old, old, older than the stone by his hand. This was hard; this was so hard, and he didn't want to be going through it with anyone watching. Given the circumstances, however, even through his breakdown, Draco was grateful that it was no one else but Potter. At least he had been there from the beginning, knew what was going on. If it had to be anyone from the Order, Draco could recognize that he was lucky it was him.

iIiIiI

"Good morning, Harry," Hermione greeted him the next morning.

It was eight o'clock; Harry had not returned to bed until five a.m. after Draco exhausted himself enough to get some rest. He had left him sleeping upstairs, opting to come down and give in to the tempting smell of Mrs. Weasley's hot breakfast. As customary, everyone was gathered around the table, including Ron who though tired looked in good spirits. He greeted Harry through a yawn and continued to shovel some eggs into his mouth. Mrs. Weasley bid him sit down and passed him a plate stacked with food and a cup of orange juice. Harry settled himself between Hermione and Ginny and joined in the existing conversation.

"So, what was your favorite gift, Harry?" Ginny asked him spearing some sausage with her fork.

"That's a tough one," Harry answered. "What was yours?"

"I was especially fond of the book of spells Tonks gave me. It teaches you to do all kinds of neat tricks, like making someone confused with just one spell."

"It sounds dangerous," Mrs. Weasley frowned her disapproval.

Ginny smiled at her mother, "Nothing to worry about, mum. She magicked the really dangerous stuff so that I won't be able to see them until I'm of age. And you, Hermione?"

"The Encyclopedia Malfoy gave me is fascinating," she gushed before catching Ron's eye. "Although, I also really liked book on History of Magic Ron got me."

Harry ducked his head and smiled into his breakfast. He knew that Hermione already had the exact same copy stowed away in her trunk at Hogwarts, but she had reacted with genuine joy when she had opened her present. As she had explained to him later that night, what mattered was that Ron had been thoughtful enough to get her a present that she would really enjoy, regardless of whether or not she might already own it. They were hopeless, and Harry was only waiting for them to admit that they liked each other before he gagged on a spoon. The way they looked at one another was positively nauseating.

"I don't think Malfoy's gifts were all that great," Ron frowned.

"Ron," Fred said as if talking to a slow person, "he gave you a _crystal _chess set. Do you have any idea what those are worth?"

"Well, it's not as if he can't afford it," George chimed in.

Mrs. Weasley glared at him, "George, watch your mouth."

"And what was up with that gift last night?" Fred continued.

Ron smirked, "Even when he's knee deep into the other side, his mommy can't let him be without a wee, little present."

"Ronald Weasley, if I ever hear you talking that way about that boy again, I will take you by your ear and lock you in your room. Do you hear me?" Mrs. Weasley told him.

"Mum, calm down. What does it matter if I make a little joke?" Ron tried to placate her with a grin.

"Wipe that grin off your face right now. That boy is the reason why you are alive. If it weren't for him, we would be going to a funeral right now. You are lucky and privileged to have your family around you; he has no one, and I will not have anyone reminding him of that. I trust that he knows the reality of his situation much more than you ever could," Mrs. Weasley scolded him, her face hard.

"Mum, just because you dress up a monkey in clothes, it doesn't make him human. I doubt he gives a flying damn about his family. I'm grateful I'm alive, but that doesn't change the fact that Malfoy is a self interested prat who cares for no one but himself," Ron said taking a bite of his food.

"Care to say that to my face, Weasley?" Draco asked in a cold voice coming into the room.

Mrs. Weasley stood up and held up her hand, "Draco, ignore him. He has permanent foot in mouth disease. Would you like some breakfast?"

"I would like to speak with Professor Dumbledore," he said instead.

"He's in the office," she pointed down the hall.

Draco nodded, "Thank you."

Once he had left, Harry stood up to follow, "Way to go, you arse."

"Harry," Ron called. "Why are _you_ mad?"

Harry swung around and glared at him, "You really do have the emotional range of a tea spoon. He just lost _everything_, Ron, and you have gone and made it all sound like it doesn't matter. How would you feel if you lost your family because you saved someone's life? Let Mrs. Weasley's words sink in and remember it was also _your _life he saved, along with mine. You and I have more to be grateful for than anyone in this room. Grow up."

Mrs. Weasley turned to her son, and as Harry walked away, she spoke in the silence, "You have done a lot of things to make me mad over the years, Ron, but I never had to wonder if I had messed up as a mother. I am embarrassed to be sitting here listening to my son show so little compassion."

"But mum-"

"I think it would be best if you stayed quiet now," Ginny said looking at her plate.

iIiIiI

"I can't stay here any longer," Draco said as soon as he walked in the door, regarding the Headmaster.

Professor Dumbledore pushed aside some parchments and glanced up at him with surprise, "Oh?"

"I have a home, which allows no one into the premises who may be a danger to the head of house, in this case, me. I have trusted House Elves sworn to the Malfoy line, and no one will be able to reach me since only my parents know of its existence. It was to be announced as my gift a couple of months from now when I took the Dark Mark. Since that won't happen, there is nothing for you to worry about. I am asking for permission to take leave for the rest of the holiday," said Draco.

"Do you not perhaps find this move a bit rash, Mr. Malfoy?" the Headmaster tried to reason.

Draco took a deep breath, "I have done everything you have asked of me, and I have saved Ron Weasley's life. I have stayed quiet while everyone here regards me with distrust and unease; I don't think I'm acting out of turn, and I think that you know what I say is true. I do not belong here, and I want to go to my home."

Dumbledore sighed, "I cannot allow you to go alone."

"He won't," Harry broke into the room, having heard the conversation through the slightly ajar door. "I could go with him, along with someone from the Order."

Draco watched in annoyance as the two discussed his future as if he were not in the room, naming several candidates until they settled on Lupin to accompany them. They acted as if it was up to them to make decisions for him, as if his own wishes didn't matter. It made him feel angry and useless, completely disregarded in matters that pertained to his own well being. Potter had no right to put himself in his plans, to make himself a part of Draco's life. The entire reason why he wanted to go to his estate was to get away, to get back to who he was, not the idiot who broke down in front of a real idiot with a hero complex. Stupid Potter, acting as if he was in control of Draco's life, without a care for what Draco might wish. It was despicable; it was fucking annoying and-

"As long as it's okay with you for me to go," Harry said to him.

"Oh," Draco paused his mental rant. He looked at Dumbledore, "Of course. If I have no other choice."

"Draco," Harry said, "you always have a choice."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Shut up, Potter. You can come; I have hated your looks from the start they gave me, so please stop looking at me and making me hate you more."

Harry looked down and smiled, knowing this was as close to a victory with Malfoy as he was ever going to get, "I'll do my best, but only if you promise to stop eating so many paint chips. It's already become too obvious."

"Idiot."

"I'll go get Remus, then," Dumbledore rounded the desk and stepped through the door, leaving them to argue.

"This is an excellent time for you to become a missing person, Malfoy."

"You have a mind like a steel trap, Potter, always closed."

"Ha! Good one; I mean, fool."

"Shut up."

iIiIiI

A few hours later, their plans had been settled and their belongings had been packed. They had to wait for Remus to set his affairs in order before he was able to accompany them, along with the Headmaster who wanted to go with them to put up extra spells to keep Draco safe. Ron and Harry had not spoken since that morning, but Hermione had approached him and asked him not to be so hard on Ron. Even though he might not act like it, she insisted, Ron knew just how much he owed Malfoy. It was just difficult for him to acknowledge after everything that had happened over the course of six years. Harry had agreed to talk with him once they returned to Hogwarts but only on the condition that Hermione beat some sense into him. Though Ron didn't know it yet, Harry was going to make him apologize. After all, Draco didn't deserve to wake up to hear something as untrue and hurtful as Ron had said, especially not after the night he had passed.

After he and Hermione had hugged goodbye, Harry had joined Draco and the two elders in the backyard. They were going to apparate to Malfoy's home, since Draco had to actually be there to open the floo connection from the other side. He had given the coordinates to Lupin and Dumbledore, and once they had memorized them they prepared for departure. All of their things had been fetched by several of Malfoy's House Elves who had bowed and thanked everyone in the room until they had disappeared with a pop. Dumbledore asked if he was ready and giving them all a smile, he nodded and took the Headmaster's arm. Draco was apparating with Remus ahead of them, so that Draco could give orders for the home to accept them. As Harry felt the strange pull at the bottom of his belly, he couldn't help but think that this was almost like a new adventure.

"This is your home?" Harry asked in wonder a few minutes later when they had walked up a hill and gazed down at the mansion below.

"The oldest in the Malfoy line," Draco nodded with satisfaction.

Professor Dumbledore scanned their surroundings, taking careful note of the forest on one side of the sprawling stone home and the lake at its back. The front of the three story building was taken up by expansive gardens which, this late in the year, had trees charmed to be snow white. On its other side the hill they were on protected it from any prying eyes, "It is quite beautiful."

"Thank you, Headmaster," Draco smiled.

"Will you need to go ahead of us, so that it will allow us in?" Remus asked him as he too scanned the ground.

Draco shook his head, "There will be no need. All that is necessary for me to be here; the house is tied to me. It will allow no one whom I do not wish to see, and it is impenetrable to any who might wish me harm."

"Malfoy, I think it's faulty; it's letting me through," Harry joked as they made their way down the hill.

Draco glanced at him then stared forward, "Stop making a spectacle of yourself, Potter."

"What am I doing?" Harry asked.

"Breathing."

"Remus and I will go and check the premises; I will put up protection spells well into the forest but please make sure not to step beyond," the Headmaster told them walking ahead of them with Lupin.

When they had walked away, Harry turned from admiring the stone structure and looked at Draco, "In all seriousness, it really is beautiful."

"You think so?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded the huge understatement.

Draco grinned, "Just wait till you see the inside."

iIiIiI

Draco had been right; the inside of the home was exquisite, done in a style Harry did not recognize of days forgone. The furniture was the same dark cherry in all of the rooms with a blue and silver color scheme. The House Elves had given them a tour, taking them through a library, several offices, a den, a living room, and so many rooms Harry could not recall the number. Large, tall windows were a theme, giving a beautiful view in almost every room without letting a draft in. In fact, the house was toasty and warm, obviously prepared with care before they arrived. They were served lunch at an ornate dining room on a table meant to seat twenty people rather than four. Soon after, the Headmaster had bid them goodbye and they had been shown to their rooms. For safety reasons, they were all staying on the second floor with Draco and Harry in rooms next to each other and Lupin down the hall.

After dinner, Harry and Draco had left Remus talking via fireplace with some member of the Order and had gone outside, Harry bundled up in a warm winter jacket and Draco in a beautifully tailored coat and scarf. Harry thought he looked very dignified like that, especially when the dark material of his clothes contrasted with the frosty white of the garden trees. He could only imagine how beautiful the grounds must look during the Spring and Summer and was not quite finished telling Draco so when the other boy gave him a curious look.

"Does this place remind you of your home, Potter? Is that why you like it so much?" Draco asked him.

Harry grinned and shook his head, "No, not at all. I never really had a home growing up."

Draco stopped, "What are you talking about? Of course you had to have a home. Where did you live, in a box?"

"No, not a box; it was a little bigger than that, about the size of a closet," he said nonchalantly.

The blond looked at him for a second, not sure what to make of his tone, but shook his head and continued walking. He pointed to a kiosk near a cluster of trees and said, "That is where my father proposed to my mother. It was merely a formality, of course, since their marriage had been arranged, but my mother would describe it to me with great fondness each time we came to spend some time here."

"It must have been great to have her tell you all about that stuff," Harry said staring at the place with a smile. "I don't know how my dad asked my mum." Draco looked at him and wished he had bit his tongue. Stupid Potter, without a family, making him feel guilty about- "No, don't worry about it. I want to hear it, honestly."

Draco looked at his rosy cheeked face and open smile and looked away, shaking his head. Trust Potter to be selfless even about his _dead _parents, for Merlin's sake. It made no sense. They continued walking, rounding the house to go to the back where the small lake was frozen, "I learned how to skate there."

"Really?" Harry aked testing the frozen edge with his foot. "I'll make sure to stay away from it then."

"What? Don't fancy another swim?" Draco glanced sideways at him.

Harry felt himself blush and changed the subject, "Shut up. I have never skated before, you know. Is it hard?"

"Not especially once you get the hang of it," Draco responded letting it drop. "Why didn't your family ever teach you?"

"The Dursleys weren't really the kind to be nice enough to teach me anything," he said.

"What kind of stupid name is Dursley?" Draco asked clearly affronted by the distaste in Harry's voice. "Anyway, I can teach you if you want."

Harry shook his head and put his hands in his pockets, "I don't have any skates, Malfoy."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Well, I do. Obviously we'll have to shrink them to fit your diminutive size, but I'm sure that will be no problem. Do you want to?"

"Yeah," Harry shrugged. "Why not?"

iIiIiI

A couple of hours later, Draco was bent double laughing his ass off at Potter. He kept trying to catch his breath, but then he would look at Harry sitting on the chair at the edge of the lake and it would start all over again. After procuring skates, Draco and Harry had dragged a chair from the house, waving off Lupin's concern, and took it to the lake where the older man stood watching without interfering. He had stayed through the initial debacle that was Harry trying to get his footing and eventually left them to do some paperwork when he was sure that Draco wasn't going to kill Harry. Instead, Draco was being quite helpful, having fun for the first time in weeks.

The apples of his cheeks were a rosy pink and his lips were red as a result from the cold, but he was having a great time. For the supposed savior of the world, Potter sure sucked at an awfull lot of things, like hanging on. Draco had given him the chair to cling to while he showed him what he was supposed to do, but the great idiot thought he could do it without the chair. He ended up breaking his glasses and had to charm them together again, only then agreeing that perhaps hanging on to the chair was a good idea. They had kept going at it, with Draco skating around him trying to show him what to do, only to end up with Harry calling him a show off ninny he wanted to squish like an ant. In a last ditch effort, Draco had literally grabbed Potter's leg and tried to move it for him, which was the reason they were in their situation. Surprised, Harry had lost his grip on the chair and had caught his foot on the leg, making him fall, hard. He had gotten up and sat on it, sliding off to the edge of the lake without a care for what Draco was saying.

"Come on, Potter. I apologized," Draco called out through his chuckles.

"No you didn't," Harry cried. "You laughed at me and told me that I had reached rock bottom and showed signs of starting to dig."

Draco smirked, "I can't deny it. Come here; let's try it again." He skated over to Harry and helped him stand only to swipe his feet from under him once he was up. Harry caught a hold of Draco's jacket on the way down and pulled him hard. They landed with a heavy thud on the frozen water.

"I'll agree not to kill you if you get us some hot chocolate," Harry said they slid.

Draco gave this delighted sounding laugh that Harry had never heard and turned to look at him, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight, "Only because you amused me."

"That will have to do," Harry said but yanked him down when he tried to get up, pushing off and getting up himself before he was caught. He managed to make it into the house before Draco caught up with him and haughtily ignored him. He walked off somewhere, apparently unwilling to respond to Harry's apologies. He was left feeling like a prat on the couch before someone smacked him on the head; Harry turned around and glared at Malfoy, but his frown melted when he smelled the hot chocolate. Draco joined him and they stared into the fire, insulting each other well into the night.

iIiIiI

Hey, everyone. I know these have been coming out fast, and I don't want to really get you used to that, but I have just been bit by the writing bug lately. It has been engorged by your amazing reviews, so keep it up. Please let me know what you think, because I really appreciate it. PLEASE REVIEW! 86 seems like a lucky number! Ha. Thanks everyone. Hang in for all the Drarry action; I promise it's coming.

Aly


	9. Chapter 9

"Malfoy, hey Malfoy!" Harry called smacking his head with a pillow.

Draco blinked slowly, waking up, and burrowed his head beneath the covers, "What the fuck do you want, you insane, tick infested mongrel?"

"I just thought-"

"I wasn't talking to you, Potter; I was talking to your hair. Now get out of my room," he mumbled sleepily.

Harry rolled his eyes and hopped on the bed, jumping on it until Draco threw off the covers and tried to literally kick him off, "Why are you so energetic in the mornings?"

"It's snowing," Harry explained plopping down on the bed in a sitting position.

Draco hit his head against his headboard, "You woke me up because of fucking _snow_? What color is the sky in your world, Potter?"

"Will you kindly shut up and go outside with me?" Harry asked instead, jumping off the bed.

Draco glanced at the clock on his bed stand and let out a pained sound, "Potter, it's _seven _in the morning. Why don't you go chew on a bone for another three hours and come back then?"

"Get up, you lazy arse."

"I can't," Draco responded burrowing under the covers again. "I might have a reaction to you. I'm allergic to stupid."

"Come on, Malfoy. It's our last day before school starts. Don't be a ninny," Harry grabbed the covers and pulled them back.

Draco stared up at the ceiling and shook his head, "I hate you."

"Glad to see things haven't changed; now get up off your arse and move," Harry said throwing the covers down on the bed again.

Draco rolled his eyes and stood up, removing his shirt as he walked towards his wardrobe. His slender fingers revealed a long, smooth line of pale skin before he picked out a black button up and put it on. He grabbed a pair of slacks and went into the bathroom, decided on at least brushing his teeth. When he emerged, Potter was by the window watching the snow flakes fall like a puppy. He was unbelievable, Draco decided. There was just no way that someone could be _this _excited over a little snow.

"Alright, Potter. I'm ready," Draco announced.

Harry turned around and shook his head, pulling on his gloves, "Honestly, Malfoy. You look like you're going to a funeral. Don't you have anything other than slacks and button up shirts?"

"No."

"Oh."

"Your verbal wisdom astounds," Draco said dryly.

Harry led the way out into the hall, "Just as much as your bad attitude."

They rushed downstairs thanks in large part to Potter's impatience without bothering to say goodbye to a still sleeping Remus. It had annoyed Draco that the man was still in bed, and he had been tempted to order a House Elf to wake him rather than let him know once he woke that they were going to be on the grounds. Out in the gardens, Potter plopped on the ground on a particularly fluffy mound and began making the movements or a retarded, drowning fish. Draco watched with worry as he continued to do it, until he could no longer contain himself, "Potter, what exactly is it that you are doing?"

"Making a snow angel, of course. When I was little, I used to watch all the other kids in the neighborhood do it, but I wasn't allowed to join them. My cousin Dudley would always come home sick the first time it snowed and acted like a bloody terror for weeks," Harry answered.

Draco frowned with confusion, "Why would your cousin be allowed to play and not you?"

"Oh, you know," Harry shrugged it off, "the Dursleys lacked holiday spirit. You will be happy to know that you are not the only individual on the planet who is impervious to my charming personality and blinding good looks."

"Potter, I think you're running a fever. How else could you say such foolish lies. Here," Draco said picking up a ball of snow and flinging it at his face. "Why don't you cool down?"

iIiIiI

It was January third, and in one day's time they were to return to Hogwarts. They had spent the night at Grimmauld Place on New Years Eve, celebrating with everyone the coming of a new year. To Harry's surprise, Ron had come up to Draco and apologized without any coercion until an uneasy truce was reached. All of the teens had regarded the interaction with sidelong glances until it was over, prompted by Mrs. Weasley's look to include Malfoy in their conversation. They had all sat and talked about school and how long was still left for them all to finish. Draco regarded Potter with curiosity, noting that while everyone seemed happy about the prospect of ending school, even Granger who talked animatedly about going into secondary training, Harry didn't say much on the subject, choosing instead to listen and pass off his turn to speak with a wave of his hand. Ron had gone on to explain in great detail how he was going to become the greatest keeper in the Cannon's history only to smack Fred on the back of the head when he pointed out that wasn't a hard task to manage. Ginny did not yet know what her future plans were; she admitted with a happy smile that she was too busy living her todays to worry about her tomorrows. Though no one asked him, Draco couldn't agree with her more.

When they had returned to Draco's home the following day, Harry had apologized belatedly for not asking him about his plans, remembering only then about the conversation that had been dropped in favor of counting in the new year. Remus had turned into bed early after drinking a bit too much wine, and they were left to talk alone in the living room. Draco had looked at Potter calculatingly for a moment before asking him to follow. They walked to the third floor, into a large office whose every wall, save one, was covered in large books. The wall directly opposite the dark cherry desk boasted a large tapestry with several buildings scattered all around a large, cursive M. As Harry drew near, he saw that every building had the same letter stamped on the lower right corner. He put his finger on one, jumping back in surprise when the large M disappeared in favor of a haughty picture of Draco, gazing down on him with a cold glare.

"They are all mine," Draco said, sitting behind the desk on a handsome, leather chair. "They are businesses all across the spectrum, ranging from magical artifacts to economic investment; there is even one directly connected with Gringotts. Those six are mine alone, to do with them as I please. I also have shares in my father's businesses, though I don't realistically think that I will ever have access to that money again, except the largest one we co-own immediately connected to bank itself. No one, not even the Dark Lord, could tamper with galleons handled by the goblins."

"So is this what you're going to do after Hogwarts?" Harry asked glancing back at the tapestry.

Draco considered that statement, "If I am not killed, than yes, probably."

"Don't say that, Malfoy. Is this to build up your own fortune, then?" Harry asked, having assumed Draco must have been disowned but now not so convinced.

Draco smirked, "No, Potter. I don't have to build up anything. I am a trust fund, baby; I am a Malfoy. I have money set aside for me, money older even than Dumbledore himself. No, these are just for me to play. They're to test out my luck, as it were, so that I can add to the Malfoy name."

"Well, that's neat," Harry said turning away to look at some of the books.

"Yes, _neat_," Draco said sarcastically, unused to having someone disregard money in such a manner.

Purebloods and Slytherins especially were ambitious from the making, looking to surpass one another in every way every time. It was strange, once a conversation was begun on inheritance, to have someone be more curious about books than his money. His friends had been his friends in large part, because they were aware of the importance of good networking. Of course, there was also pride and the need for numbers that instigated the friendship, and even real interest at times, but it always went back to what you could offer with a Slytherin. It was how they were brought up; it was practically in their blood. Yet, Harry had been more interested in asking him about several spell books he had found, asking him questions about when they were written and if he could perhaps borrow them. In some ways, it had unnerved Draco, to know that there was nothing he possessed that really mattered to Potter.

With a Slytherin, such a trait would mean that he would be a person who would easily turn on a rival, especially if there was nothing you could offer. Potter, though, was not like that. It left Draco confused, unsure of where he stood with the Gryffindor. If he couldn't put up wealth or power, what then was going to assure that Harry stuck by his side when the moment came for someone to strike?

iIiIiI

They had finished the last of their remaining day by attempting to skate again, this time with Remus along for the ride. Harry had admitted to Remus he had a great holiday, even if he would have preferred to spend a little more time in Grimmauld Place. It was surprising to him to figure out how funny he found Malfoy to be. Though there had been some tense moments when it looked like Draco was going to snap at him and some when the blond had answered some innocent questions disagreeably, they had gotten through them, going around the house to places where Draco had fond memories. He had taken Harry into the forest and showed him the tree house, still intact, that had been built for him one summer while he and his parents were vacationing there, the same spot, incidentally, where he had broken his arm coming down the steps. They had laughed at stupid jokes, even forgetting to insult each other until Draco made some reference to Harry's appearance or Harry insinuated Draco reminded him of a slug.

The next day, they were escorted by Remus back to Hogwarts where Harry said goodbye to Draco and met up with his friends. Classes didn't start until the following day, so everyone was gathered in the Gryffindor common room sharing stories about their holidays and telling each other what they had all gotten. It was a friendly atmosphere that Harry was glad to be back in. Though he didn't necessarily think that Draco was the scum of the earth now, it didn't change the fact that he missed his friends. He had almost forgotten how nice it was to have a conversation where no one made fun of one another. Seamus was as hilarious as always and entertained them by cracking jokes about his Irish relatives and the drunken spectacles they had created. After a bit of a tense beginning, he and Ron started talking as normal and the evening carried out to its eventual close with everyone in good spirits.

"Aren't you cheery," Draco said opening the door, allowing it to close on Harry's face.

Knocking, Harry waited outside tapping his foot, "Malfoy, stop being a prat."

"Fine, fine," Draco sighed and conceded. "You have a horrible sense of humor."

"No, you just don't have one at all," Harry said. "What have you been up to?"

"Just unpacking," Draco responded going over to sit on the couch where an open book rested. "I'm also reading up on excruciating ways witches and wizards have died over the years."

Harry shook his head in pity, catching a glimpse of Draco's stuffed dragon on the bed, "You hate me that much?"

"Yes. I haven't done my Divination homework yet," Draco explained.

Harry closed his eyes and sighed; he hadn't done it either. They were got keep in contact with their partners over the holidays and let each other know about the dreams they had. Harry guessed that he would just make some foolish stuff up about Draco getting dangerously hurt, although recuperating. It made sense that he was going to be killed several different ways in Draco's paper before tomorrow. He guessed that if his partner didn't write about his impending doom, he would fail. After all of this time, he sincerely wished that he could see the humor in the situation, but all he could manage was annoyed acceptance.

"Have I been decapitated yet?"

"Last month," said Draco. "How would you fancy being mauled by a duck?"

"That happened?" Harry asked with concern glancing at Draco's book.

"What?" Draco grinned. "No, it didn't happen, you dolt. I'm using my imagination."

"Malfoy, as ridiculous as I think Professor Trelawney is, and believe me, I _do _think she's ridiculous, I sincerely doubt even she's going to believe that someone could be mauled by a duck," said Harry.

"What about a strangulation by a common house plant?"

Harry cocked his head and thought about it, "Better. Just make it sound like a battle, alright?'

"I don't know," said Draco. "Your dream didn't say anything about you not acting like a girl."

"Well yours insinuated you have sex with small farm animals."

"An epic battle with a house plant it is."

"Thank you," Harry smiled his triumph.

iIiIiI

"I thought we made a deal that if I wrote you were engaged in battle, you were going to scrap that rubbish about me and the animals," Draco said coldly with a firm grasp on Harry's journal.

"I don't remember having said that," Harry grinned.

Draco chucked the journal at his head, going completely ignored by Professor Binns as he continued to drone on about the Wizard and Vampire treaty of 1405, "Just for that, you're going to get eaten by a mosquito next time."

"It got me full marks, so I won't complain," said Harry backing away as Draco threatened to throw a quill at his head.

Draco put his fingers to his head and looked off into space, "I see you getting gang banged by a couple of banshees in your near future."

Harry mimicked him and said, "You get friendly with weird things quite easily, don't you? Though, I must admit, choking on a toe attached to Snape's foot is weird even for you."

"Potter, just why did you have McGonagall's knickers on your head before she murdered you?"

Harry winced, "That's horrible and below the belt."

"Know your opponent, Potter. Oh, look, a tragic story. You and Professor Trelawney..._and _Peeves. My, oh my; I think I better start writing this down," said Draco.

Harry narrowed his eyes, "Why are you so mean, Malfoy?"

"You were the one that said I had sex with a duck!"

"Hey, the duck is your fault. Shouldn't have put ideas in my mind," Harry held up his hands in response.

"Mauled by a duck," Draco nodded assertively.

"Oh, come on."

"Twice."

iIiIiI

They had been back at Hogwarts for two weeks, and Draco was getting worried. No one, literally no one, had attempted to kill him yet. It was terrifying. Harry had tried to calm him down, telling him he should be happy that no one was trying to kill him, just like a blithering idiot of a Gryffindor. This was not natural; after weeks away from the castle, Draco had returned ready to face at least another stupid poisoning attempt, or something, anything really. The lack of activity had him going insane, something that Harry could attest for. They would sit up late at night when even Potter's presence wasn't enough to calm him, and Harry would listen to him go on and on about what _he _would have done if he were in the Slytherins' position. It was Draco's belief that he would do much better at the other end.

Harry had listened with patience, wanting to throttle him half of the time but nodding along when he described a particularly gruesome murder idea. Draco was worried about someone not trying to kill him yet, but Harry was afraid that he would just take the job out of the Slytherins hands and get it done with. By the way Malfoy was talking, it was as if he derived some sort of sick pleasure for being able to outsmart his classmates about how to go about killing him. In the end, Harry had to change the subject. He was never particularly keen on thinking about how the people in his life were going to die, and it was especially irksome that it was spoken of in such a casual manner.

"As much as it is music to my ears to hear you describe how you may possibly die, don't you think this conversation could wait until the morning?" Harry asked in the darkness.

There was shuffling and Draco walked from his bed to the living room, taking a seat on the armchair, "You have to admit that I'm coming up with particularly ingenious ideas."

Harry cracked an eye open from the couch, where he was lying down, and said, "You are a morbid human being, Malfoy."

"Thanks, Potter."

"It was not a compliment," Harry mumbled.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Soft heart and a head to match. What would you like to talk about then?"

"I want to sleep, actually," said Harry.

There was a moment of silence when Draco contemplated whether or not to give in to his curiosity. "Hey, Potter," he cleared his throat, "How exactly are you related to the Durksveys?"

Harry laughed, "The _Dursleys _are my family on my mum's side. It's her sister, my aunt's husband, and the small elephant of a son they have named Dudley. Why?"

"You just never describe them with much warmth. I would have thought you would go on about them the way you go on about Granger and Weasley. What's the story there?" Draco asked noting carefully the way Potter's face hardened.

"No story. They just took me in after my mum and dad passed away."

"Did you guys go to fun places when you were young?" Draco asked testing the waters.

Harry grinned, "Yeah, right. They left me with our neighbor any time they went anywhere. They weren't particularly fond of me."

"Hmm," Draco said. "Did they treat you well?"

"Why so many questions?" Harry asked defensively sitting up.

"Just wondering."

Harry stared hard at him for a moment before looking away with a frown, "No, not particularly. You know how you always say I must have been raised in a box? Well, I wasn't. I was raised in a cupboard."

"Potter, stop joking," Draco said, deciding to drop it if he wasn't going to be serious.

Harry looked into his eyes and flopped down, throwing an arm over his eyes, "I'm not."

Draco looked at him for a second, trying to figure out what to make of that sentence. Potter was obviously not going to say anything further, so he stowed away that piece of information for later perusal and instead asked, "You know what would be exciting?"

"What?"

"Death by the Womping Willow. It would be a _smashing _event, don't you think?" Draco smirked.

"Malfoy!"

iIiIiI

Late on a Thursday the third week of school after their return, Draco opened the door to a displeased looking Potter. He had asked what was wrong, seeing the annoyed way that Harry dropped his bag by the door and landed heavily on the couch. Harry had scratched his head in frustration and had given a vague answer about the Slytherin Quidditch Team giving them a hard time, making them turn in from practice early and return to the castle with a note from Snape. Apparently, he had been walking down the hall when he started to feel uncomfortable, but he thought it was just a headache. Draco had nodded but kept his distance, knowing that an annoyed Potter usually didn't mean anything good, especially when he was tired. It would just be his luck for the Gryffindor to lose control of his magic a second time while in his room.

"Potter, do you mind if I read your Divination homework for inspiration? As crazy as it sounds, even to me, I have run out of interesting ways to kill you," Draco said putting his hand on Harry's shoulder to get his attention. The next thing he knew, Potter had sent him flying towards the back wall, luckily hitting the arm chair before he crashed into one of the bookcases. "Potter, what the hell is your problem? That hurt."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, shaking his head. He didn't know what had happened, but Draco had put his hand on him, and it had made him so _angry._

"Why don't you go cool off with the Gryffindors and come back later, or tomorrow, or never for fuck's sake," Draco let out with a wince, moving his arm gingerly. He moved to open the door for Harry, but the wand pointed at his face stopped him. Potter didn't look like himself just then; his face was flushed and his eyes weren't focused, almost as if he didn't know what he was doing. "Potter," Draco said slowly, "take off your clothes."

"No," Harry said before firing off a spell.

Draco ducked just in time, turning and running to find shelter behind one of the pillars separating his bedroom from the living space. He had no idea what was making Potter act this way, but he was almost positive it wasn't the Gryffindor's bad temper. Draco tried to stun him, only to have a hex rush by his cheek cutting as it missed any other part. "Fuck," he said under his breath and took shelter again. Harry was behind the couch, aiming to hurt, seemingly trying to break down the column so he could get at the Slytherin. Sudden panic hit Draco's chest when he heard the pillar grumble as it started to give way, adrenaline pumping through him as he rushed to take shelter in the hall leading to the bathroom. The design of building gave him just enough space to hide behind the wall where a door had been before he had come to live there.

"Potter! Put your wand down and take off your clothes right now," Draco yelled out.

"Bombarda," Harry shouted in response blasting a hole on the wall opposite Draco.

"Potter, what are you doing?" Professor Snape called out coming through the door.

"Professor, no!" Draco yelled. "It's not his fault." He looked out in time to find Snape take shelter outside the room, his wand drawn. Potter seemed completely unaware that he was shooting at a professor and instead turned his attention to Draco, set to finish what he had started.

Different voices joined Professor Snape outside the room, barely heard over the spells being fired his way. Potter kept up the wand power without taking a breath, moving to get a more advantegous shot without regard for his own safety. Draco tried to knock him out again but failed; he accidentally left his arm exposed and felt it burn when a hex hit him close to his shoulder. Through the pain, Draco heard Snape and McGonagall fire spells at Harry at the same time, halting the onslaught. He hurried out of his spot in time to catch Harry falling in Snape's arms. He was put on the ground with little care, with everyone still pointing their wands at his unconscious figure.

"Stop," Draco said. "This isn't, Potter. Headmaster, take off his robes."

"What has happened here?" Professor Dumbledore asked coming through the door.

"Potter complained about the Slytherin team making him turn in early from the Quidditch pitch. He said his head hurt, and when he started attacking he didn't look like himself. I think something is making him do this," said Draco.

Dumbledore settled his eyes on Snape, "Take off his robes, Severus."

With clinical efficiency, Harry was unrobed, left only in his boxers. "There," Draco pointed at the piece of string securely curled around his ankle. "What is that?"

The Potions Master reached for it, only to have it jump at his wrist, saved from it by Professor McGonagall's spell. The string caught fire and curled into itself with a shriek before disappearing. On the ground, Harry began stirring. He sat up and looked down at his bare chest in confusion, "Why am I half naked?"

Draco gave a heavy sigh and shook his head, raking his eyes over Harry, "How do things like this only happen to you, Potter?"

iIiIiI

"Merlin, Potter! Put it away. No one wants to see that," Draco blushed in surprise, catching Harry coming out of the bathroom in only a pair of sweat pants.

Harry rolled his eyes and said, "Sorry, Malfoy. I forgot my shirt."

His hair was wet and water trailed down his neck and onto his chest as he walked further into the room. He bent over the arm of the couch, stretching the smooth length of his back to try and reach his bag on the floor. After having gone to the infirmary to get checked by Madame Pomfrey, he had spent some time with Professor Dumbledore, discussing everything that he had done on the way from the Pitch to Draco's rooms. In the end, he had given over his memories so that they could be studied over to try and figure out which family and what students were behind the attack. It took him forever to make it from Gryffindor Tower to Draco's room, not the least of all because of Ron and Hermione's worried questions. He had described everything in detail to them and had finally been allowed to leave when he had repeated the story three times. Hermione had gone off to the library to try and figure out what the piece of string could have been, dragging Ron behind her.

He had no doubt that she would find something. Whether or not she figured it out before the Headmaster and the professors was something else completely. The young girl responsible for the attack on Draco was conspicously missing when they returned from the holiday, though neither knew whether it was by design or because of Professor Dumbledore. Draco thought, and Hermione fully agreed, that without concrete evidence, there was no way anything could be proven. It was most likely that this had been a part of the plan all along, set in motion from the beginning. Draco had no doubt that his young attempted murderess was having the time of her life, getting whatever she wanted for having done her best for her family's advancement with the Dark Lord. Hermione had wasted no time on letting both of them know how despicable she found the entire thing, but Draco had merely smirked and shook his head at her naivety.

If he was honest, Harry was actually quite relieved to return to Draco's place, where he would be insulted but not harassed overly much as would happen under Hermione's supervision. He focused on the task at hand and dug out a white cotton t-shirt only to frown, "Damn it. It's dirty."

"Throw it here," Draco instructed walking over from his desk. "I will throw it in the laundry with the rest of my things," he took the shirt and went over to a drawer of his wardrobe where Potter's things had begun mixing with his own. He grabbed one of Potter's shirts and threw it at him.

"Ouch," Harry hissed having to bend to pick it up when it landed on the ground. "I feel so sore."

Draco nodded, dragging his eyes away, "And you will hurt for some time to come. That type of magic is Dark and heavy. I wouldn't want to know what sort of ritual they went through to make it override your own decisions and manipulate your body."

"Sorry about that," Harry said pulling on the shirt and sitting down, "about having tried to kill you and all."

Draco joined him and leaned back on the wall by the fireplace with crossed arms, "I'm just glad it's over. Now, there will be some time in between attacks once they see that it didn't work. I have to admit the sophistication suprised me, though."

"Malfoy, come here," Harry said making the blond sit next to him on the couch. He trailed an apologetic finger softly over Draco's wounded cheek, "Shit, did I do this?"

"It's nothing," Draco turned his head away.

Harry allowed his hand to drop to his lap, biting his lip, "Great job I'm doing of helping protect you."

"It's true," Draco nodded, "You suck."

"Shut up."

"Then stop acting like a girl, Potter. This happens; it's going to keep on happening. Do you honestly believe it's going to do anyone any good to have you feeling sorry for yourself?"

Harry shook his head, "Thanks, Harry. You have done a great job. Don't worry; this could happen to anyone, but, you know, I'm sorry that you feel like a jet ski barrelled you down."

"I sound nothing like that, and I would never call you by your name. I also have no idea what a jet ski is, so if you were trying to make an effective metaphor, consider that a fail," said Draco.

Harry rolled his eyes and reached for his bag again, "Shut up. Anyway, I brought you something to apologize."

"What is that?"

"Candy," Harry grinned.

Draco leaned forward, "Chocolate?"

Harry cocked his head, "You like it?"

"Yes," Draco said before snatching a chocolate frog away.

Harry watched in silence as Malfoy went through the chocolate as if he was a man on a mission, barely pausing to chew. Who would have thought that he, of all people, had a sweet tooth? It certainly came as a surprise to him. Harry took out a carrot cake pastry and took a bite; that hit the spot. After a horrible day, nothing felt better than having some well deserved sugar. It was obvious Malfoy agreed with him.

Draco licked the tip of his finger and thought for a second, "Death by chocolate. That would be a glorious way to go."

"Consider it done. Our new Divinations assignment is due soon."

"Oh, I have thought of new ways to do you off. Care to hear?"

Taking a bite of his cake, Harry shrugged. They sat like that for some time, forgoing dinner to eat candy instead. By then end, both looked like they were going to be sick, but regardless of how he might have felt, Draco kept eating chocolate describing with merriment his plan to have Harry fall off a broom, like an idiot, as he put it into a pit of snakes.

iIiIiI

Wow! You guys have outdone yourselves. I'm not going to ask for a number and will just let you all surprise me. PLEASE REVIEW and let me know what you think. I appreciate that you are all willing to wait for the process to happen naturally. I will do my best to give you the best form of interaction between Harry and Draco as I can.

Cyber hugs and mucho love,

Aly


	10. Chapter 10

"I can't take it anymore!" Draco shouted alone in his room.

This was it; he was sick of it. He would no longer stand for it. He refused.

It had all begun two days ago, late on a Thursday evening three weeks after the latest attack. Everything had been running smoothly with one or two failed attempts by the Slytherins to get at him, stopped early by the careful watch of Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall respectively before any harm was done. Besides some misguided attempts at physical retribution, Draco was as close to feeling safe as he could possibly allow himself to be. It was almost three months since the entire ordeal began, and he was, for the life of him, actually getting used to the rhythm of going to class and being manhandled by Potter and Granger whenever they thought something wasn't right. The Gryffindors had been by his side, never derailing from their plans, on the look out, though Finnigan had to restrain himself from punching him in the face when Draco told him he suspected the Irish boy had to be put back in his kennel after the Gryffindor started making some crude jokes and laughing loudly as they walked down the hall. Though Potter had ripped him a new one when they had been alone, Draco had remained unphased. The way Finnigan had handled himself was distasteful, and he fully took the responsibility of saving the earth from stupidity one idiot at a time. He had related to Potter he was trying to make up for his apparent failure with him.

,

That had made Potter go quiet on him for a while, but he had eventually wooed him back to his charming company with some chocolate bought discreetly in underground dealings with the help some House Elves and a book Potter had never heard of on the various uses of ancient magic. It was interesting to watch Harry get that gleam of curiosity in his eye when Draco presented him with a part of magical life he had never heard of; without the strain of having to do homework assignments and write essays, Potter was actually a surprisingly eager student. Though Draco suspected it was partially due to whatever activities Harry was doing after classes, he was sure that some of the drive to learn, at least, was out of his own volition. It was increasingly evident, though Harry carefully avoided the conversation when Draco brought it up, that there was something he was not telling him. There was a pattern to Harry's exhaustion. He would disappear after classes for an hour or two and would resurface sweaty and hungry. A couple of times, he had actually fallen asleep while Draco got ready to catch a late dinner in the kitchens with him.

However, it only ever happened on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. The other days, he spent some of that time with his friends in Gryffindor before coming back to Draco's place. It had almost become a habit for them to share dinner together, although Potter would sometimes stray into the Great Hall, coming back with funny stories told to him by the Gryffindors. On those nights, Draco would be especially quiet when he came in for the night, and Harry had to work hard to get him to talk. It wasn't as if Draco did not understand. Of course he did; it was more that it stung to know that there were things going on outside his walls of which he was no longer a part. He could not go to the frigid Quidditch game or partake in trips to Hogsmeade. He was so disconnected from the outside world that he had no idea who had gained dominance in Slytherin or which families had risen or plummeted in status amidst the Pureblood social circles. It was simply getting harder and harder to ignore the frustration building under the surface of his cold demeanor.

When Potter had shown up on Thursday, shiny with sweat and grinning like an idiot, Draco had snapped. He had thrown cutting insults at Potter carrying more weight that was usual and had thrown him out of his rooms when Harry started demanding to know what was wrong, asking how he could make it better. The truth was that Draco was tired of Harry trying to make it better; he was so sick of depending on him for information and protection, and though the idiot wasn't as much as an inconvenience as he had been in the past, it still grated on his nerves that Harry was the only person with whom he shared actual conversation day in and day out. It was maddening and, though irrational, Draco hadn't wanted to see Harry's face. Potter had given him what he wanted, plenty of space, barely speaking to him on Friday and staying away for the night. Draco had tossed and turned in bed until very late but had fallen into an uneasy sleep where he dreamt of open skies and fresh air. So, here he was, in his stagnating room with nothing to do on a Saturday morning, sleep deprived and ridiculously pissed.

"Damn it," Draco yelled throwing his book on the ground, "Why aren't you interesting? Why is there nothing to fucking do?"

There was a sharp knock at the door. Draco kicked his book at the wall, stomping to the door and prying it open to stare out at a confused and guarded looking Potter. Apparently, he had hurt Harry's feelings, and the Gryffindor had no idea what to do. With a drawn sigh and roll of his eyes, Draco stepped back allowing him to pass through into the interior of the room. Harry glanced around the disheveled space with confusion. This was not like Draco, at all. Malfoy was neat almost to a fault, folding even his dirty clothes before placing them in the laundry bin. Yet now, there were pieces of scribbled on parchment scattered on the ground by the desk and books everywhere as if they had multiplied and spilled over. There was even a cup of cold tea on the coffee table.

Harry turned to look at Draco, whose blue button up shirt was wrinkled, and shook his head, "Malfoy, what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong. Everything is just fucking peachy dandy," Draco responded kicking away some parchment in fury when it got in his way.

"You just attacked a piece of paper. I think there's something wrong," Harry said cautiously.

"Well, your hair had been attacking you since you were born, trying to eat your face, but I don't point that out," Draco frowned.

Harry actually had to smile at that, "Yes you do. You point it out at least twice every day. Now, come on. What is the matter?"

"Nothing is the matter," Draco said throwing himself on his bed. "I told you I'm fine."

Harry stood up and walked to the bedroom, standing over him, "The necklace has been so hot that I had to take it put it outside my robes so it wouldn't burn my skin. That's not normal; you're agitated and I want to help."

"Well, that's just bloody fantastic, isn't it? Here comes Potter to rescue the day once more. No one needs you, so go away wonder four-eyes," he said coldly.

"Stop it," Harry said sternly. "You know I could be in Gryffindor right now completely ignoring that there is something obviously wrong. Quit your shit and act your age. If you don't want me here, fine, I can leave. You don't get to treat me like that, though."

Draco sat up and landed his head onto his hands, running his fingers down his scalp. He looked up at Potter and scrunched his eyebrows, "I'm sorry, Potter. You're right; it's not your fault." 

"Holy shit, guys," Harry said looking around. "I think Earth just stopped spinning. Is this a joke? Is this a practical joke? Are you really there, Malfoy, or have I gone around the bend?"

"I have no doubt you have," Draco laughed at the other's antics. "Stop acting like a git."

Harry sat next to him on the bed and grabbed on to the stuffed dragon, playing with the bells, "So, are you going to tell me what's gotten into you aside from a massive case of the Pureblood arsehole-ish-ness?"

Draco dropped back on his back and stared at the ceiling, "I'm just so sick of being stuck in this room."

Harry stopped the tinkling of the bells and carefully sat down the toy by Draco's pillow, "Now, was that so hard?"

"Was it hard for you to abuse the privilege of being ugly?"

"That evil twinkle in your eye is the sun reflecting off the back of your skull."

Draco sighed and glanced over at him, "So, how are you going to fix it?"

"What?" Harry asked.

"You said you wanted to help," Draco pointed out. "So, how are you going to make it better?"

Harry sat in silence for a moment, thinking, then stood up, "I'm not sure yet, but give me a bit of time and I'll figure out something."

"Where are you going?" Draco asked him as he walked to the door.

"To make it better," Harry looked back with a smile and walked out of the room.

iIiIiI

"Harry," Hermione said worriedly, "I really, really don't think this is a good idea."

"Mate, as much as you know it pains me, I actually have to agree with her," said Ron biting back a grin when Hermione smacked his upper arm.

They were in the library, absconded in the back in a cubby by a tall window. It was almost four in the afternoon, and Harry had convinced them to join him after spending time alone fruitlessly trying to come up with something. Truth was, he was worried about Malfoy and he completely understood where the bloke was coming from. If he were the one trapped in the same room every day, he was sure that he would have snapped a long time ago. It was a testament to Draco's self discipline that he had remained in control for such a long time. Were he the one in that given position, he would want someone to help him, to take him out even for a bit to get some fresh air. He knew it was reckless and that in fact it wasn't a good idea, but what was he supposed to do? Hermione could very well sit there and tell him everything that could go wrong, but she hadn't seen Draco. He looked utterly miserable and it bothered Harry to not see the other boy in control.

Harry shut the book he was reading in disappointment and looked at them, "I know it's not the smartest thing- alright, it's not _a _smart thing to do, but you haven't seen him. The poor chap looks like he's going to take a spoon and gag himself."

"Harry," Hermione laid a hand on his arm, "I understand how frustrating it must be for Malfoy-"

"Frustrating? Hermione, I'm afraid he's going to take a blunt object and poke his eye out for something to do," Harry shook his head.

Ron laughed and looked at him dubiously, "A bit dramatic there, don't you think?"

Harry gave in and grinned, "Alright, a bit, but it doesn't change anything. I'm telling you, he looks horrible and his attitude is worse. If you won't do it for him, will you please do it for me? He's being a bloody terror."

"You know the antidote to that?" Ron asked him. At Harry's shrug he said, "Come and spend more time at Gryffindor with us."

"Ron, I just can't leave him alone."

"But you haven't left him alone in months, Harry, literally months. I'm sure that he can manage-"

"No," Harry said definitively. "How would you like being stuck in a room with nothing to do, a window five feet away taunting you with what you can't have?"

Hermione sighed and rubbed her face, "You aren't going to give up, are you?"

"Nope."

"Alright, then. Since asking Professor Dumbledore is out the window, and since we can't sneak out after hours along with the two of you, my best suggestion is for you to use your Invisibility Cloak," she said.

Harry nodded and pushed the new book he had picked up away, "That's what I have been thinking too. I just don't know how I feel about disclosing that bit of information with the former enemy."

"Glad to see you haven't completely gone to the dark side," Ron nudged him.

"I'm sure it will be fine; he'll be annoying and ask a bunch of questions, but I'm sure it won't go past that."

Hermione caught his eye, "Just please promise me you will be careful."

"Hermione, with Draco's life hanging in the balance, I don't think I have a choice," Harry answered seriously.

"Oh, so it's _Draco _now, is it?" Ron taunted him.

"Oh, shut up."

iIiIiI

When Harry knocked on the door and came into the room, Draco was having candy for a late dinner. It was after seven and after it was clear that Potter wasn't showing up to force him to go get some actual food, Draco had sulked by the fireplace, roasting some marshmallows with a poker. Though Harry would never say it for fear of untimely death, the blond looked pitiful. Things around the room looked better with the trash gone and the books back in place but around Malfoy different pieces of candy were scattered, littering the soft carpet. It was obvious by the mess that the Slytherin had already gone through a fair bit of chocolate and was working hard to finish a licorice wand while at the same time popping a sticky marshmallow into his mouth. When Harry joined him in the living room and sat on the couch, a smile was torn from him. Draco had a ridiculously forlorn look on his face and a bit of marshmallow was stuck just to the lower right of his bottom lip. If Harry wasn't as masculine as he was, he would even stretch to say it was kind of adorable, in a mad, little kid type of way.

"Your tastes do run for the dramatic, don't they?" Harry asked.

"Shut up, you stupid Gryffindor. I'm depressed."

"So you're going to eat away your sorrows? That seems like a pretty good idea. Sign me up for the depression thing," Harry said picking up a piece of candy by his foot.

Draco stared intently at a chocolate frog and asked, "Why did I have to save you, you waste or air and space? If I had left you to rot at the bottom of the lake, I would be holding court in Slyterin. I would be at the top of the Pureblood food pyramid making your life a living hell while living my glorious one. I should have really thought things through."

"That's a lovely sentiment, Malfoy. It almost makes me want to hex you the hell into tomorrow, but then I wouldn't get to tell you the news that I came here with."

Draco looked at him sideways, "What is it? Finally learned how to use your thumbs after sixteen years?"

"That too," Harry said twirling his fingers to prove his point while reaching into his bag. He grabbed the cloak and carefully tossed it on Draco's head, "I also thought you might want to go for a little midnight stroll."

"What is it?" Draco asked from underneath the fabric pulling it to his lap.

"You ticket out of here, for a couple of hours at least," said Harry.

Draco scanned the fabric and looked up in surprise, "Potter, this looks an awful lot like an Invisibility Cloak."

"Lucky bastard. I wish I had eyes like yours," Harry answered sarcastically.

"How do you-"

"Parting gift from my dad," Harry stood up and halted the string of questions he had no doubt was coming. "If you hold off on the questions and actually go with me to the kitchens to get some real dinner, I will answer your questions tomorrow. What do you say?"

"And you're going to use this to sneak us out of the castle?" Draco asked still handling the cloak with careful fingers.

Harry nodded, "Yes."

Draco looked at him and his face lit up, "Smashing. I'm starving."

iIiIiI

A little after midnight, Draco was pacing around the room nervously going to the window and into the living room, then back again. He would look up at the moon anxiously and would go check to make sure that the Invisibility Cloak hadn't disappeared in the five minutes since he had touched it last. Finally exhausting even his nerves, he joined Harry on the couch glancing over his shoulder as Harry perused the Marauder's Map to make sure that everything was safe. During dinner, Harry had shown him the enchanted parchment, knowing it was best to do it before they actually left. Draco had gazed at it for a long time, especially concentrating on the Slytherin common room where different dots could be seen apparently lounging in the common room. His face had hardened as he stared over the names, but he had said nothing about the actual map choosing instead to focus on his meal. It was a great surprise to Harry that Draco would show such tact and respect for his privacy going without asking about the Map after Harry struggled with initially describing it.

After dinner, Draco had gone back to his room while Harry left to confer with Hermione and Ron about their plans. They knew everything in case anything went wrong, though Harry assured them that he would do his very best to keep them both safe. Though neither liked it, they both accepted that Harry's mind wasn't likely to be changed and parted ways with a hug and a pat on the arm. When Harry had made it back to Draco's rooms, he had found the blond in cheery spirits sitting on his bed casually running his fingers over the stuffed dragon by his side. He had looked at Harry with a calculating eye when he came through the door and gave him a vibrant smile, trying to win Harry over. It immediately put him on guard; it was not natural for Draco to show him a nice disposition.

In the end, he had been right. A Slytherin was always a Slytherin, and now he was a Gryffindor conned out of a pair of sweat pants. For all of his galleons, Malfoy honestly did not own a piece of athletic material that was not somehow related to Quidditch. Worst of all, he wanted to go for a _run_. Harry had looked at him and had done a slow blink, having to ask in all seriousness if Malfoy had gone insane. It was early February, and the air was freezing. There was no way that Harry was going to run in this weather. His plan had been to get them into the grounds and go for a walk, securely protected underneath the cloak and warmed by several spells. In the end Draco had gotten him to agree by questioning his masculine pride, and it was not until some time later that Harry realized he was duped.

"Slimy Slytherin," Harry said under his breath as Draco walked ahead of him down a hidden passage.

Draco emitted a good natured laugh having apparently heard him and looked back, "We'll get some warm tea after we return. Now, hurry up."

"We wouldn't need warm tea if you didn't force me to go with you to run in below zero degree Celsius weather, Malfoy. To think, you actually had me half way convinced you were clever, then you went and pulled this," Harry said bitterly.

"Come off it," Draco said and halted when they came to a door. "Is it safe for us to go out there?"

Harry looked at the map to make sure and nodded, urging the blond forward once they were out in the open. They made their way into the courtyard, staying in the shadows beneath the cloak in case any part of them showed as they moved. For a moment Harry almost felt like one of those spies on the Telly he used to see when the Dursleys left him at home alone. He followed Malfoy towards the Quidditch Pitch and pulled back the cloak immediately regretting it as the wind tore at his face. It was far away enough from the castle and especially the Slytherins for them not to be seen, so there was little to worry about aside from perhaps trying to keep their fingers from freezing and falling off. Both quickly cast some warming spells and braved the weather.

Draco stretched his arms up, revealing a sliver of skin as Mrs. Weasley's jumper rose above the low slung sweat pants on his hips, and he breathed in deeply, "I missed this."

"Are you sure you wouldn't enjoy this more if we just walked around," Harry asked in a last ditch effort looking away from Draco's waist.

Draco glanced at him and grinned, "Not a chance. Come on, Potter, man up."

Harry glared at him but folded the cloak into the bag he had carried with them and put his wand into the holster Malfoy had given him for Christmas. With a roll of his eyes, a bad habit he had picked up from the Slytherin, he caught up with him as Draco began to job and said, "I still think this is a really stupid idea, Malfoy."

"If this is a stupid idea and you're doing it, what does this say about you?"

"Shut up and run," Harry said instead focusing on moving his limbs through the cold wind.

After a while, running actually became bearable and much preferable to the alternative. The motion warmed them and coupled with the heating spells, it was almost like running in normal conditions. Almost, if you counted trying to keep up with Malfoy normal. It made no sense that he would be in better shape than Harry after having stayed inside for so long, but he kept up a long steady stride which Harry struggled to maintain. After so long that Harry had lost sense of what time it could possibly be, he allowed himself to lag slightly behind and watched carefully waiting for an opportune time to carry out his nefarious plan. His breathing was labored and sweat was trailing into his eye, making it sting as he ran along. His chest felt like he had perforate a lung and there was cramp in his calf that had him limping slightly. Finally having had enough, Harry rushed forward and tripped Draco's feet taking him down to the ground heavily as he crashed into him from the back.

"Oh, ouch," Harry panted. "My mistake; I'm sorry."

Draco looked over at him where he sat trying to catch his breath looking completely unapologetic. He couldn't remember having felt this great in such a long time; his blood was pumping and his heart was beating against his chest in a quick but steady rhythm that had nothing to do with fear or anger. The weather was chilling, especially now that they weren't in motion, but he had been cooped up inside for so long that he didn't mind. He laid on the ground and stared up at the sky, not remembering ever being so happy at seeing the moon travel across its natural path. He felt a grin pull at the edges of his mouth as Potter clutched the side of his stomach and wheezed out in pain, glaring at him with a look that insinuated a great betrayal. The Gryffindor was flushed, his cheeks a rosy pink that brought out his eyes remarkably against his dark lashes, and his hair looked a holy terror. His lips were red, drawn tight as he stemmed a flow of curses aimed at the Slytherin. Biting his lip in good humor, Draco was more than willing to admit that Harry really wasn't that bad after all.

iIiIiI

Two days later after a grueling session with Snape, Harry limped to Draco's rooms completely pissed. He had been a bloody mess in there, and Snape had wasted no time in telling him what a failure he was. He knocked on Draco's door and threw down his bag on the ground once he was allowed in, wincing when he felt the muscle in his arm pull. Malfoy looked at him in amusement, going to lounge on the couch with his feet propped on the coffee table. He was still wearing Harry's sweat pants and had added to his ensemble one of Harry's white cotton t-shirts which barely reached down to the waistband of the pants. The idiot looked completely satisfied as if he didn't have a care in the world. Harry walked over slowly and sat on the far end of the couch, letting his legs fall heavily on Draco's lap.

"Hey, watch it," Draco said as the breath was knocked out of him.

"That's what you get, you dirty, vile, sneaky Slytherin. Con me into running in freezing weather, will you? I _hurt_, and now I have a cold," Harry pointed an accusatory finger refusing to move his legs.

Draco looked at him with incredulity, "Then go to Madame Pomfrey and get it fixed."

Harry looked for something to chunk at his head but fell back after finding nothing near, "It's not that easy, you prat. If I go, she's going to ask how I got sick. Then, she will let the Headmaster know, because she knows he cares. Do you really think he's going to believe some phony excuse I give him? No, he won't. Then, you and I both will get in trouble. So, you see, this is all your fault. I hope you're happy."

"I am happy, in fact," Draco smiled. "I'm not the one who looks like shit right now."

"And take off my clothes. You're going to stink them up with the stupid."

"Pouting and sulking like a girl does not suit you, Potter. Come on," he tapped on Harry's legs. "Get them up."

Harry released him and looked up at him through bleary eyes, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to the kitchens to get you some hot chocolate and myself a tea," Draco said benignly.

"Oh," Harry considered. "With some little marshmallows?"

Draco smirked and nodded, "Yes, with some little marshmallows."

iIiIiI

"Alright, Potter. This is enough," Draco said at three in the morning. "You have to go to the infirmary."

"No."

"You're not getting any better, and you can't go to sleep. What else do you propose we do?" Draco asked coming into the living room.

Harry shivered underneath the extra blankets Malfoy had thrown on him and said, "Maybe some more hot chocolate with the little marshmallows would help."

"If I get you some more hot chocolate with the little marshmallows and it doesn't make you feel any better, do you promise to go to the infirmary?" Draco asked, deciding that he had some responsibility in this mess.

Harry contemplated the proposition for a moment and nodded, "Yeah."

"Shake on it, then," Draco said reaching for Harry's hand. Once he held it, he frowned in concern, "Potter, you're really hot."

"Maybe the hot chocolate, then?"

Draco put his hand on Harry's forehead and shook his head, "Alright. I'll get you the hot chocolate, but you're going to Madame Pomfrey first thing tomorrow."

When he returned, Draco found Potter asleep. He sat down the cup and was going to turn into bed when the sleeping figure stirred and blinked. Draco bit his lip to stop an immediate smile and held out the cup, "I got it. I even put in some extra marshmallows."

Harry nodded and took the cup from him looking ridiculously grateful. Across from him on the armchair, Draco was doing a really great job at not laughing. Potter looked absolutely ridiculous. His hair was bunched up on one side and his eyes were watery. His nose was red at the tip, but despite all that, he smiled when he tasted the chocolate. He looked so appreciative of the warm liquid that Draco couldn't help it, a small laugh escaped him.

Potter did his best attempt at a glare and muttered, "It's not funny."

"I would beg to differ."

"I would beg to punch your face," Harry said aiming to be threatening but only making Malfoy laugh more.

Draco sat up with him until he finished his drink and then made him get back beneath the covers. Dark circles were forming underneath the blond's eyes, and as he settled down to sleep, Harry thought that it would be a surprise if either of them woke up in time to go to lessons tomorrow. As it was, his head was stuffy and he couldn't think too well, so he just closed his eyes. Malfoy dragged all the covers over him and waited until he had fallen asleep to turn off the light. As he was walking to his own bed, he cursed and turned back around. With great care, he grasped Potter's glasses and took them off, setting them on the coffee table until the morning.

iIiIiI

Harry woke up feeling like his head was stuffed with cotton balls; his ears felt like they had popped in the night and he had swollen sinuses. He could feel the light coming through the far window, but he disregarded it and kept his eyes closed, because, really, if he didn't see that it was morning, then how was he to be blamed? Hearing some shuffling, Harry sniffed and sat up allowing the covers to pool at his waist. He was warm and toasty, which made it difficult for him to initially focus. Grabbing his glasses, he looked in the direction of Draco's room, and what he saw caught him slightly by surprise.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked through a stuffy nose.

"Stealing your clothes," Draco answered pulling out a pair of Harry's jeans from one of his wardrobe drawers.

Harry gathered the thickest blanket, a fluffy blue one, and draped it across his shoulders. He walked closer to the room and leaned against one of the pillars, resting his head on the stone, "Pardon?"

Draco looked up from the jeans in his hands and said, "I'm trying to figure out why your clothes are so comfortable."

"Ah. It's the whole getting things two sizes too big secret," said Harry.

Draco shook his head, "I have been living in the dark ages. I have never even thought about getting bigger clothes."

"Why not? You can just walk into a store and buy them."

"Potter, I have never bought clothes from a store. It's unseemly. I always get fit and have them made," said Draco.

"You can try them on if you would like to," Harry indicated the jeans. "Although, am I ever going to get my sweat pants back?"

"No," Draco shook his head.

Harry sighed and nodded, "At least you're honest about it."

Draco ignored him in favor of going to the bathroom where he stripped of his pijamas and pulled on Potter's pants. They were simple dark denim and fit low on his hips thanks to Potter's midget size. He took a moment to admire the fit and decided he liked it. He was already wearing one of Harry's soft, cotton t-shirts and it looked surprisingly good. Since he was younger, he had been fitted into fine robes with imported Italian cloth. If his mother could see him now, he thought with a smile, she would give a polite gasp of surprise and ask to excuse herself so that she could regain her composure. His father would just give him a cold glare until he changed. Regardless, it was ridiculously comfortable and no one was going to see him. It was no harm to steal Potter's clothes while in his own rooms. In fact, it only made sense.

He walked out of the room and folded his pijamas and placed them in his wardrobe. He turned around and asked Harry, "What do you think?"

"Wow. You actually look human," Harry said admiring the cut of the jeans on Malfoy. On him they just looked frumpy, too big and too long for his shorter frame. On Draco, though, they highlighted the length of his legs and the cotton t-shirt sat comfortably against his chest. Harry liked it.

"That would be a lot more cutting if your nose wasn't cherry red," Draco smirked.

"I resent that," Harry said.

"That glare would be a lot more threatening if your eyes weren't watery."

Harry went to the couch, grabbed a pillow, and walked back, deliberately throwing it at Draco's face, "You, sir, are fit to wipe a monkey's arse."

"That sniff right then just completely ruined your insult," Draco taunted him.

Harry shook his head, "I just want some hot chocolate?"

"With the little marshmallows?" Draco asked with a grin like the cat who had eaten the canary.

Harry nodded mournfully, "Yes."

Draco sat on his bed pulling on his shoes and contemplated the time, "Well, it's already half past ten. I don't think you're fit to go to class and without anyone there to watch my back, there's no way I'm going. What do you say if we just skip and go get some early lunch?"

"Yes," Harry agreed, "And hot chocolate?"

"Yes, Potter," Draco rolled his eyes.

"And ice cream?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Definitely."

iIiIiI

You guys are amazing. I'm so happy that you are all liking it. PLEASE REVIEW and make me a happy Aly. You are all so amazing. Like it, dislike it? Let me know. By the way, one of you asked if this was already written. It's not, which is why I have to ask your patience in getting these babies out. HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL EVERYTHING AND FOREVER.

Aly


	11. Chapter 11

"My eyes feel like they're bleeding," Harry complained pushing the chair on its hind legs to balance against the wall.

He and Draco were studying for their N.E.W.T.S., beginning to review the material from the beginning of the year. Malfoy was like a slave driver, not allowing Harry to give up after he came across something uninteresting or stupid, prompting him to keep going by a scathing remark on his intelligence. Frankly, however, he was at a point where the stupid git could say anything about him and he wouldn't care. They had been at it since early that Saturday morning, having begun the previous week. It was madness really; after all, it was only the last week in February. Harry found it a little premature to begin stressing out over end of the year exams. If it was up to him, he would wait until late in March and then he and Ron would start panicking and cramming. It had worked before, so he didn't see why he was being dragged along unwillingly on this stupid Slytherin craze.

Hermione had practically bounced off her seat when he had walked in to the Gryffindor common room late last night, exclaiming how Malfoy really couldn't be that bad. Harry wished he could be won over so easily; the truth remained that Malfoy was a cunning prat who could get anything out of him. He was on to him, and there was no way that he was going to be appeased. Besides, he was _hungry_. They had an early dinner because Draco insisted that he had to get back to a particular passage in the book he had been reading, and Harry hadn't wanted to stay in the kitchens alone. When they returned, he had been tempted to grab the large tome from Malfoy's grip and hit him on the head a couple million times. It was _potions_. The great git hadn't let him finished eating because of _potions_. It was so stupid. Really, what was he reading that was so interesting, how to pickle small pig fetuses in a jar? It made no sense.

Getting up from his belly on the couch, Draco stretched and arched his back, "I agree. I think if I read anything more my head will roll off my body in protest."

"Finally you see sense," Harry said with a smile catching sight of a small patch of skin that became exposed when Draco stretched and accidentally untucked his shirt from his trousers.

"What else would you expect with someone with aptitude like mine?" Draco asked with a cheeky grin.

"Hmm, look at that funny gerbil. I thought it said aptitude," Harry looked off into space and tapped his index finger to his lips.

"A gerbil? Honestly, Potter? You couldn't come up with something stronger that hinted at my masculine prowess?" Draco asked looking deeply offended.

Setting the chair down on its feet, Harry got up and stretched himself, "No. As a matter of fact, as you can see from my hand here, I do not tell lies."

Draco walked over to him and grabbed his hand gently trailing a finger over the small scar, "You still have that then?"

"It's not bad," Harry shrugged. "Most days I don't even know its there."

Draco frowned deeply and scrunched his eyebrows, "That doesn't matter. That bullfrog of a woman. She should be in Askaban for all she did here."

"A bit harsh, don't you think?"

"She maimed you and you think I'm being harsh?" the blond looked at him in surprise.

Harry looked at him for a second then gave a silly sort of smile, "No, you're just protective."

"Protective?" Draco looked affronted. "Of whom? You are nothing but an incovenient piece of lint on my clothes, as annoying as a loose string you can't quite manage to rip apart."

"It's alright, Malfoy," Harry teased. "I'm impossible not to like."

"Potter," Draco said looking deadpan. "You know how there's that saying that some people have a face only a mother can love? Well, yours tagged a note to you saying she would forgive you for being born if you never came back."

"I resent that, you know."

"Wow, there," Draco held up a hand as if to protect himself from Harry. "I think your stomach is ready for an attack. Where's my whip?"

"Oh, shut up. It's your bloody fault. I wasn't finished eating, but you just had to come back to figure out how to properly chop a squirrel's toe or something equally creepy," he said.

Draco walked towards his bed and picked up his robe, "I tell you what; I will go with you to get something to eat if we go out tonight."

"That's blackmail," Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Yes," Draco agreed.

Harry shrugged, "Works for me."

iIiIiI

Early on Monday morning, walking in between classes, Draco couldn't help but yawn. He had been able to convince Harry to go with him to the Quidditch Pitch a second time, only their third total, and he had kept them there until nearly four. As a result, they were both running on less than four hours of sleep. Potter had been cranky all morning, fighting sleep as the professors droned on about snooze worthy things. Draco had been forced to keep up a steady barrage of paper balls to throw at Potter's head in order to keep him awake. He had looked at Harry with innocent eyes when the other boy had accused him of having a nefarious plan all along to make his life miserable. True as that might have been, the previous night had been all about having fun. They had gone for another run, Potter doing his great imitation of an injured chicken again, and had gone to sit in the stands when they were finished. It had been a particularly beautiful night. The stars had been out and the moon had been an almost red color that stood out beautifully against the darkness of the sky.

Harry had told Malfoy at length about what he used to do when he was younger. On nights when the Dursleys went out to a party or somewhere with friends, he was usually left alone, outside. They locked the door, so he wasn't able to get into the house unless he climbed in one of the windows, which after a couple of spectacular attempts he had given up on. Instead, he would go to the nearby park and play until he got tired. Then, he would lie down on the big spinning wheel and keep it moving with his leg on the ground. He would stare up at the sky and imagine that there was something out there that would make up for everything that was going wrong. He would imagine that the moon was the mom and that the stars were all of her children, and one day he would go away and have a family just as big as she did. Eventually, he had stopped because Draco stared at him with an indescribable look in his eyes, as if there was something he wanted to get off his chest but wasn't quite able to. Alone on the couch later, Malfoy breathing deeply on his bed asleep, it occurred to Harry that it was sympathy. Draco felt badly for him.

It was a surprise, certainly, but a small one after all of this time. Lately when they had nothing to entertain them, they would sit and talk. They talked about stupid things, about funny stories when they were children. One had been particularly humorous where Harry had found that Draco had been bitten by mole rat when he was six after finding it in his family's grounds. It was funnier to think that to this day they made him uncomfortable. In turn, Harry had related why Aunt Marge really hated him so much. When he had been younger, one of her stupid dogs had eaten some of his food when he hadn't been aware. He had been so angry that he had ridden it, literally ridden the dog down the hall until it crashed into the door. Aunt Marge had been furious and had not forgiven him since. They would sit and laugh, and sometimes, when the necklace rested warmly against Harry's chest, Draco would tell him about things he used to do with his parents, his mother in particular, when he was smaller and always at home. He would get the softest look in his eyes, so vulnerable that Harry had to tell him how lucky he thought Draco was. He had never had a mom, but he figured that if she had lived, he would have wanted to have attempted putting make-up on her just like in one of Draco's stories. He imagined that would have been great.

"Oh, shut up, you git," Harry hit his arm. "It's your fault we're so tired."

Draco started laughing and held his hands up. He looked at Hermione and asked, "Granger, is it my fault Potter doesn't have a spine?"

Hermione glanced over her shoulder at Harry's face, tired and with bag under his eyes, "No."

"Hey!"

"Shouldn't have gone out two nights in a row," Hermione shrugged a little miffed that they would be so risky.

Harry pointed at Draco, "It was his fault. I don't understand how you can be turning on me. You're _my _friend."

"But I'm the one with the brains," Malfoy said. "You really can't blame her."

"Evil little bastard," Harry said under his breath.

"Oh, stop," Draco put in. "All of your compliments are going to give me an ego."

"I don't think it's possible to give you one bigger than what you already have, jerk," Harry said.

"Well, there's yours. Then, I would really have no-"

He didn't get to finish what he was going to say, though. Suddenly, an invisible force gripped the front of his school robes and dragged him forward smashing him against the wall. He tried to escape, to get his hand into his robes in order to dig out his wand, but it was to no use. He didn't know what was happening, but whoever was responsible was not visible. His entire body was being thrown repeatedly against the wall. He braced his hands against it, trying to minimize the impact while Potter and Granger tried to get him down. He was elevated four feet off the ground, and his entire body was beginning to ache. Suddenly, his arms were torn from the wall and his face crashed against it. He had to blink the pain away trying to figure out how to get down despite the fact that he had to breathe through his mouth. His nose was bleeding and he could feel the cold fluid running down his chin to stain his shirt. Finally, after what felt a life time, Professor McGonagall rushed down the hall and cut the connection. His body crashed to the ground before anyone could catch him.

Harry ran to his side, crashing on his knees to rest Draco's head on them. The Slytherin's eyes were unfocused and bruises were already beginning to form on his right cheek. His nose looked bashed in, but Harry couldn't tell if it was broken through all of the blood. They had been running late to class and by now, everyone was back in the classrooms. Whoever was responsible was gone. Harry felt the necklace on his chest start to warm and looked down to it to see it glowing. There was a pull on his belly button then he and Draco vanished. They rematerialized in one of the hidden passages nearest to the infirmary. Harry got to his feet and levitated Draco after him, rushing to get him to Madame Pomfrey. When he got there, she was ready, already alarmed by her stone. She took Draco from him and set him on a bed, running her wand over him to diagnose the damage. At the doors, Professor McGonagall rushed through followed shortly by Professor Dumbledore and Hermione.

"Mr. Potter, what happened?" the Gryffindor Head of House asked looking over at Draco with worried eyes.

"I don't know, Professor," said Harry. "We were walking down the hall one moment, and he was levitated off the ground the next."

Hermione nodded next to him and continued, "He was thrown against the wall over and over again. It was almost as if something had him by the front of his robes."

"Was there anyone with you? There are usually at least three of you with Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said.

"Ron had to go to the bathroom and since we were so close to the classroom we told him to go ahead," said Harry, Professor Dumbledore walked to them coming from conversing shortly with Madame Pomprey. "Is he alright, Professor?"

The Headmaster nodded, "He will be alright. He is hurt, but Madame Pomfrey will be able to mend him."

"This was not aimed to kill, then?" demanded McGonagall.

"No," Dumbledore shook his head slowly. "I don't think so. I believe it was to intimidate him."

"They're trying to show him they are in control, aren't they, sir?" Hermione asked her face going pallid.

"That is precisely what they are doing," agreed Dumbledore.

"Hermione, did you see anyone?" asked Harry. "I didn't catch anybody with a wand drawn."

"No, neither did I. It was too sudden," she answered.

"There is nothing either of you could have done, and I'm afraid that we will all only be incoveniences to Madame Pomfrey while she works on him. I would suggest you both return to class," Professor Dumbledore said in a low voice.

Hermione nodded, but Harry shook his head, "No way."

"Harry," began Professor McGonagall.

"No. He needs someone to be here. Could you imagine if a Slytherin comes in here while he's unconscious? He will be ripe for the taking. With your permission, Headmaster, I would like to sit here with him," said Harry.

Dumbledore considered Harry for a moment then glanced in Draco's direction. Turning around, he nodded, "He needs someone to be here with him when he wakes up. I will come back later, when he is feeling better. We will leave you then."

Harry watched them walk away, smiling when Hermione looked back to give him a reassuring wave. He stayed to the side, giving Madame Pomfrey plenty of room to work. Inside his chest, his heart was beating a mile a minute. None of this made sense; they had just been laughing a couple of minutes ago, and Draco had been acting like a complete idiot like always. Now, he was on a hospital bed looking little and broken. As Harry sat down heavily on a nearby chair, he stared in disbelief. This couldn't happen again. Draco depended on him, and however it may have happened, he was worried for the Slytherin. In a lot of ways, Harry depended on him too. If not Draco, who would he get to insult? Who would be an annoying jerk until Harry gave in and allowed him to borrow his clothes? Who was he going to stay up late at night with talking about his childhood with? Who was going to be there to get him hot chocolate when he was sick?

iIiIiI

Hours later, Draco woke up feeling like his face had been slammed in concrete. Then, it all came to him. He supposed stone was close enough to concrete, much too close for his comfort. Turning his head to the side, he noted the emptiness of the room. The other hospital beds were deserted save one with a coughing Hufflepuff down the hall. Madame Pomfrey was tending to him, giving the lad a stern talking to about flying in this weather. It made Draco give a half smile. He missed flying.

Down the hall, the doors were pushed open by Harry's back. He was walking carefully, balancing the cup in his hand so that he wouldn't spill any liquid. Turning around, he saw Draco was awake and hurried over to his bed. Without thinking, he thrusted his hand forward, "I got you hot chocolate."

"With the little marshmallows?" Draco smiled.

"Yeah," Harry nodded sheepishly.

Draco put his hands on the mattress and tried to push himself up to a sitting position. Setting the cup down on the floor, Harry hurried over to him and carefully wrapped his arms around Draco's chest, pulling up most of his weight. He stepped back and handed over the chocolate, glancing carefully over Draco's naked, bandaged upper midsection. When he had been slammed against the wall, his stomach had been scratched, as had been the rest of the front part of his body, and his ribs had been bruised. There was nothing much that Madame Pomfrey could do for that, so the bandages had to stay in place for support in the meantime. Below them, Harry could see the fine definition lines of Draco's toned muscles. As Draco breathed, his stomach moved up and down, flexing and unflexing as he blew on the hot chocolate.

Harry looked up Draco's amused face and said, "You have bandages."

"Ever aware, aren't you?" Draco taunted. He put a hand on his ribs and massaged slightly, wincing, "They hurt."

"Do you remember what happened?" Harry asked.

The Slytherin nodded, "I'm hurt not stupid. It felt like some type of spell, kind of like Levicorpus."

Harry shook his head, "There was no way it was as simple as that. Levicorpus doesn't pack that much punch."

Madame Pomfrey interrupted them then, rushing over to check Draco over now that he was awake. Over her shoulder, Malfoy rolled his eyes at Harry, making him smile, and gave in to the older witch's administrations. He was given a pain dulling potion, and she wanted to keep him overnight to make sure that everything was alright. Another student in Ravenclaw robes came in complaining of a head ache and she walked off to attend to her.

"You feeling better?" Harry asked referring to the pain dulling potion.

"Not really; I can still feel an uncomfortable sort of soreness even through it, you know? It's annoying more than anything," Draco said handing over the empty cup.

Harry took it in his hand and fidgeted with it. He looked up at Malfoy and felt like a prat, concern and guilt making his eyes heavy, "Draco, I'm so sorry."

Draco furrowed his eyebrows and grabbed on to Harry's limp fingers, giving them a squeeze, "It's not your fault. I'm alright."

Harry gave his hand another squeeze and nodded. He sat down on the bed next to Draco's and smirked, "It sure is a hell of a way to get out of classes."

"One of my better dubious plans, I must admit," Draco said but let out a painful breath of air when he shifted his weight too quickly.

"Does it feel like getting mauled by a duck, do you figure?"

"Worse than twice," Draco nodded gravely.

iIiIiI

"Potter, you know what I think?" Draco asked from his bed the following day.

"What would that be?" Harry asked from Draco's desk where he was completing an essay.

"Well, seeing my state, and all, I must admit that I am in a lot of pain. I think I need to do something that is going to make me feel better; wouldn't you agree?" he asked.

Harry looked over at him with narrowed eyes. He knew that tone of voice, the one that sounded completely innocent but that spelled nothing but trouble. That tone had gotten him out of two different pairs of jeans, a pair of sweatpants, and a midnight candy dinner. It spelled trouble alright, and he wasn't sure if he was up to it. They were back in Draco's room from the infirmary, only released a few hours earlier. Madame Pomfrey had been hesitant to let them go, but both they and Dumbledore agreed that being in the infirmary was simply too dangerous. It left Draco too open for anyone to come and attack. They had allowed Draco to get hurt once already, and no one wanted to see it happen again, especially so soon. In the end, the nurse had given in, making Harry in charge of taking care of her patient. They were giving potions and fresh new bandages that Draco would have to wear until it no longer hurt for him to move.

The trip back to the rooms had been a particularly interesting one. They had commenced by walking slowly side by side, until they had to take a rest a quarter of the way there when Draco started sweating under the stress. He was breathing heavily through the pain of pulling his ribs as they moved down the passageway. Professor Dumbledore had offered to walk with them, but Draco had waved off his offer, knowing that it was going to be embarrassing enough to have Harry there to watch him limp like an obese, invalid girl. His every limb felt heavy, and he wanted nothing more than to throw his shoe at Harry's concerned face. It was not helping the situation. After their fourth time stopping, however, Draco had given in and allowed some of his weight to drop on Potter as they made their way down the hall. Harry's left hand was securely wrapped around his waist, low enough not to hurt him, and his fingers left a comforting pressure against Draco's hip. His right hand was wrapped around Draco's arm, holding on tightly so that the Slytherin wouldn't slip from his grip.

They had finally made it, and Harry had put Draco in bed, where he had shortly fallen asleep until now. The way his eyes were lit up made Harry groan. Whatever Draco wanted, it was not going to be good for his health. Regardless, Harry nodded, agreeing with Draco's last statement, "Yeah, I agree you should do something to feel better, like rest. Go back to sleep."

"No, no," Draco waved off his suggestion as if he was slow. "I meant something for my emotional health. I'm traumatized, you know."

"I'm sure you are," Harry said with pursed lips.

"As such," Draco continued, "I feel that I have to reach past my horizons to an activity that brings intrinsic freedom."

"Mm hmm."

"Well, aren't you going to ask what that is?" Draco prompted.

"No, I'm fine," Harry said returning to his parchment.

Draco sat up with a hiss of discomfort and crossed his arms over his chest, "I'm an invalid, Potter. You're supposed to be taking care of me, so pay attention."

Harry sighed heavily and turned his attention to the blond, "Alright, what?"

"Flying."

"Pardon?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "I know you're not as stupid as you look. Nobody could be. I mean, like on a broom. You know? Flying."

Harry glared at him, "Doesn't know the meaning of the word fear, but then again, you don't know the meaning of most words. Malfoy, may I remind you that you just came from the hospital, because a group of very dangerous individuals want you dead?"

"Your point is?" Draco asked in bored voice.

"My point is that you're not the grape right now; you're the raisin-"

"A raisin, seriously?"

"And you can't precisely walk out of here and get on a broom. You will be a clear target, and that's only if you can make it out of here to begin with. You're hurt," Harry insisted.

"I didn't know you cared so much," Draco joked.

"Of course, I care," Harry responded seriously. "That's why you can forget it."

Draco frowned, "May I remind you I got you hot chocolate when you were sick?"

"I got you some too, so now we're even," said Harry.

Draco let out a breath and tried again in a more appeasing tone, "Harry, I would really appreciate it."

"Wow, do desist my dear heart. I think our ears deceive us," Harry placed a dramatic hand on his heart. Then, he looked at Draco and narrowed his eyes, "I'm not that daft. Using my first name doesn't change the fact that it's a stupid request."

"A stupid request for a stupid individual," Draco cut in scathingly, annoyed that his plan wasn't working.

"You can be a baby as much as you want," said Harry. "Nothing you say is going to change my mind."

iIiIiI

Two days later, Harry found himself cursing under his breath. Draco was high above him, flying on his Firebolt. Harry had refused to leave the ground, angry with himself for having even been talked into coming out to the Pitch and decided on keeping guard. He had allowed Draco to use his broom, because he knew nothing was going to keep his feet on land. The happy smile that had split his face had nearly been worth the entire ordeal, then he had limped coming out here, and the reality had nearly crushed Harry. They shouldn't be there. They should be inside waiting for Draco to recover safely behind the walls of his hidden rooms.

This was stupid; they were tempting fate, and Harry wasn't comfortable with it. Draco on the other hand looked happy as could be. He had explained to Harry that he knew where the danger was, and he was almost sure that it did not extend after hours into the Quidditch Pitch. It was too far away, and no one knew they were out here since they had used Harry's Invisibility Cloak. Regardless of what he had said, Harry wasn't convinced and he sure as hell was not going to make it easier on anyone to sneak up on them. He stayed vigilant, making sure that nothing escaped his notice. The grounds were quiet, however, and nearly all of the windows in the castle were dim. Its inhabitants were sane enough to be asleep by now, as they should be. Yet, here they were, putting their necks on the line for a little of Draco's enjoyment.

To be fair, Draco was having a great time. High above the ground, he felt like he was able to breathe for the first time in a very long while. He flew no higher than would make him visible, staying below the cover of the stands. It was phenomenal. Harry looked like a small dot below him, and Draco was forced to smile at the care he took at making sure they were safe. He really was a good guy despite all the remarks he made about the Slytherin's intelligence. Draco knew he would go through hell when he came down and that Potter was most likely going to ignore him for a while, but it was a price he was willing to pay. Not only was flying amazing, an angry Potter was one of the funniest things he had ever see. Harry would go quiet, and his lips would purse. His entire face would go serious, making his eyes more pronounced under his drawn eyebrows. The thing was, he could never keep it up. He was by nature easy going, and it was humorous to get to the point where Draco would attempt to make him laugh, nudging him on the stomach, only to have him try to suppress his amusement. As much as Harry wished otherwise, Draco always won.

Finally having had enough, Draco pulled down and landed softly on the ground near Harry, "Hey."

"Hi," Harry said looking away disinterested.

"Oh, come on, Potter. Don't be mad," Draco said smiling.

"It would help a lot if you wiped that stupid look off your face, thanks," Harry said referring amused way Draco's eyes lit up.

Draco put forward Harry's broom and nodded at it, "If you want you can go up in the air. I'll watch from down here."

"No, I'm fine," Harry responded crossing his arms.

"Go on, Harry," Draco nudged him. "I'll keep guard."

He turned and looked at Draco for a long moment, shaking his head. It made no sense; it was like the dumb Slytherin had some power over him or something. He said his name and suddenly Harry was doing whatever the prat wanted. Taking the Firebolt, Harry rolled his eyes and took off, hearing Draco's laughter from the air. Fact was, he had not flown just for fun in a long while. It felt good to race through the sky without having to worry about an entire game going on around him. It was peaceful, like nothing was wrong and nothing ever would be. Like no one could touch him.

Below him, Draco watched Harry fly with admiration. He had never seen anyone fly like that, like the air parted around him simply because he wished it so. It was kind of beautiful, really, the way Harry tore through the sky as if he was completely in his element. Even from down here, the muscles of his forearms could be seen through his sweater as he clutched the handle. His thighs wrapped around the broom strongly as he willed it to shift down. When he came off, flushed and bright eyed, Harry found Draco blushing looking away from him as he walked over to the blond.

Harry was about to ask if something was the matter when they heard a throat clear behind them. Draco's eyes widened, and as Harry turned around, he had to bite back an 'Oh, shit,' when he saw who was standing there. Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape were giving them withering glares, prompting them to walk into the castle with a few short words.

iIiIiI

An hour later, they were both back in Draco's rooms. They had been split apart, Draco taken by Snape and Harry by Dumbledore. House points had been taken, and the only reason why they hadn't been given detention was because they had to keep Draco in his rooms. Snape had ripped Draco's defense apart, letting him know that he didn't doubt for a second that it was all Draco's doing. It was clear to the Potions Master who would be behind the idiotic plan, because although Potter was stupid, he wasn't this reckless with other's safety. He had berated Draco, asking him if this was the way to uphold his word to his father, letting him know that they were lucky he had seen them while out on patrol. If he hadn't caught sight of Potter for a split second, he and the Headmaster would not have known they were there. It would have only left time for someone else, someone more dangerous, to find them.

For his part, Harry was left feeling like utter crap. The Headmaster had let him know in no uncertain terms how disappointed he was in them, in both of them. He asked if Harry didn't understand the seriousness in the situation and went on to enumerate the various scenarios that could have occurred. Each one drove the point home, and Harry had apologized profusely, promising it would not happen again before finally being released. The walk back to the rooms was a lonely and cold one. Draco had been escorted by Snape, and he had made it home first. He had waited anxiously for Harry to return, not sure if he felt worse when he saw the defeated look on the Gryffindor's face.

"I'm sorry," Draco said before he had a thought to say anything at all.

"No," Harry shook his head, "_I'm _sorry. I should have said no. This is all my fault."

Now, that pissed Draco off. This was all obviously his fault, yet here was Potter taking the blame. "What am I? I was the one that convinced you. This is all my fault. There's no reason for you to feel badly about any of this," he said.

Harry joined him on the couch and looked at him, "You are cooped up here all of the time. No one can blame you for wanting a little freedom."

That took the wind out of Draco's sails. Letting his head fall heavily on Harry's shoulder, Draco looked up at the Gryffindor through his lashes, "You're unbelievable."

Harry looked at him and shrugged. He was, for a lack of a better word, bummed.

"Would some hot tea make it better?" asked Draco.

"No. Let's just go to bed," Harry said.

Draco bit his lip and gave it one last shot, "What about some chocolate? Would that help?"

Harry tried to disagree, telling himself that it would make nothing better, but eventually his resolve melted, "Yeah, I think it would, actually."

Draco grinned and squeezed the upper part of his arm lightly before going off to get them his stash. It was Harry's weakness, and he knew he had exploited it. Thing was, he just wanted to make it all better. It gave him an uneasy feeling when Harry looked like that, lost and sad, as if he was kicking himself inside, and he wanted to make that look go away. Even when Harry started smiling, however, Draco couldn't shake away the guilty feeling at the pit of his stomach.

iIiIiI

Hey, everyone. I'm glad you are all still with me, and I hope this chapter exemplifies how Harry and Draco's relationship has grown over the three month period they have been in each other's lives. Thank you so much for reading and REVIEW. Please let me know what you thought, and if it all seemed natural. I think it did, but I would appreciate your input. REVIEW.

Thanks so much,

Aly


	12. Chapter 12

"I say we stay here forever," Draco said allowing his head to hit the set of pillows below him.

Plopping down next to Draco on the wide, lavish bed, Harry couldn't help but agree more. It was finally spring break with an extended extra weekend, because it conveniently fell on Easter weekend. Ron had gone with his family to visit Charlie in Romania, and Hermione had gone with her parents on a trip to Spain. Knowing the alernative, there was no way that Harry was insane enough to forego the opportunity to stay in Draco's home. The idea of having to go back to the dreary Grimmauld Place for a week and a half was almost more than Harry could bear. Alright, so that was a bit dramatic, but he still didn't want to return to Mrs. Black cheery company. Thankfully, Draco had offered up his home to Dumbledore before Harry had time to be convinced otherwise.

The members of the Order were obviously busy in this time of upheaval, so instead of a live in chaperone a member from the Order was to come in and check on their safety twice a day instead. Voldemort was upping his antics, allowing his Death Eaters to attack villages in the dead of night. Some of the fear of the previous war that Harry was always hearing about was spreading once again, gripping the hearts of civilians all over England. There were signs of searches amidst the damaged buildings, as if they were looking for something. Snape had told him so during a particularly hard session. The Potions Master had angered him, pushing him to forget what it was that was distracting him to get him to work harder. It had worked; Harry stopped fantasizing about going to rest, of sharing an easy afternoon with Draco. Instead, he focused on growing stronger so that maybe he could make more of those afternoons possible. They were friends, after all, and Harry wanted to spend as much time with him as he could.

As far as his training was concerned, Harry was becoming stronger, was getting better. He was able to go longer without getting tired, and his magic didn't get completely out of his control. For what it was worth, Snape was much better at teaching Core Magic than he was at teaching Potions. Once they yelled at each other, it was usually easier for Snape to give clear direction and for Harry to listen to him. Their relationship was shaky at the best of times, but it was thankfully put out of context when they were locked away in the dungeons practicing. Harry was able to be a smart ass, and Snape didn't take away any points. Instead, he simply worked Harry close to his breaking point. It was an interesting, often annoying, dynamic that was giving them successful results. An interesting development of the greater control Harry now had was that when he was wiped out he could feel the thrum of other's magical energy. It was like Luna's Lynxes, he guessed. If he closed his eyes, he could feel the flow around him, as if it stretched from the individual to the ground, an extention of everything around them.

Thankfully, however, he wouldn't have to worry about any of that for a little while. He was tired, mentally and emotionally, and the idea of a reprieve was as welcome as Summer was at this point. It was mid-March, but the weather was still dreary. The only real difference was that instead of snow now there was rain, disgusting, gray rain that made Harry feel miserable. It meant cold water hitting his skin whenever they walked outside and his feet sticking to the muddy ground. The only nice part about early Spring rain was that they could go inside, sit by the fireplace, and avoid it. Even now, there was the constant pitter-patter of rain falling softly against the large window on their left.

"Agreed," Harry nodded.

"Potter, look what I can do," Draco said, kicking his shoes off and standing on the bed. He forced his weight on his hands and did a handstand, slowly taking one arm off until he lost his balance and crashed against the cushioning of the mattress.

Harry looked at him for a moment and said a slow, "Okay."

"My ribs don't hurt anymore," Draco said by way of explanation smiling brightly.

"And you couldn't have just told me, 'hey, I'm no longer in pain.' Show off," Harry muttered the last part.

"Aww," Draco cocked his head to the side. "Don't be jealous just because you're a weakling. Whose the grape now, eh?"

"You are, so let me go ahead and squish you," Harry said, making a go for Malfoy's head.

Draco knocked his hands out of the way and rolled on top of him, pinning him down, before Harry kicked him off and reversed their positions. For a second there, Harry managed to get Draco's head in an armlock before the other boy elbowed him in the stomach, making him lose his breath. They tumbled off the bed, hitting the floor heavily. Both laid stunned for a minute before Draco lunged. Harry rolled out of the way, just in time to watch Draco hit his head on the bed. He started laughing but choked midway when Draco grabbed on to his legs and pulled him forward. While attempting to body slam him, Harry swiped Draco's feet from beneath him and pinned him to the ground with his legs and stopped his hands from moving with his right upper arm.

With his face ridiculously close, Harry started laughing, "Consider yourself squished."

"Get your hair away from me. It might have mange, it might bite, it could even decide to finally leave its ugly tenant and go for the best looking thing here," Draco said trying to shake the Gryffindor off.

"What was that you said about me being weak, Malfoy?" Harry asked with a cheeky grin, pushing his legs harder to the ground to keep Draco from getting away.

In fact, Harry was very strong, deceptively so for his slight frame. Draco could feel the muscles in Harry's thighs clench around his waist, and his arms were pinned securely above his head. Harry's face was tinged with red from the exertion and his eyes were shining brightly. Below him, Draco blushed a delicate shade of pink and looked away, refusing to answer to any taunts thrown at him from above. Harry found that particular flushed color to be lovely, really. It made Draco's face somehow softer, his gray eyes less harsh around the edges.

"Alright, get off, you goon," Draco insisted. "You are a menace."

"Agree that I'm stronger, then," said Harry.

"No; instead, however, how about if I give you lunch. Otherwise, starve for all I care," Draco pushed on Harry's arm trying to free himself.

Sighing, Harry gave in and lifted his arm, freeing Draco's hands, "Spoil sport."

Seeing the window of opportunity, Draco bucked his hips and kicked Harry off before jumping on him and pinning him to the ground. Grinning, he said, "Never trust a Slytherin, Potter." He got up and raised his arms, "That is a win. Draco one, Potter zero. Good job, Gryffindork."

Harry stood up and massaged the lower part of his back, which had been slammed down harshly in the last bit when he had been caught off guard, "You have no honor."

"No," Draco agreed, "but I have victory."

"This better be the best lunch I have ever had," Harry said darkly, glowering at Draco when the Slytherin smiled brightly.

iIiIiI

"Are you still angry, Potter?" Draco asked hours later when they were taking a tour of the grounds. It was a relief to be able to go outside without fearing being killed, and he was determined to take full advantage of it. As it was, Harry had been sulking all day and was currently pouting like a girl as they walked.

"First you attack me, then you lull me into a sense of safety by offering a great lunch, then you fucking drag me out in this damned rain," Harry listed off his grievances. "You're despicable."

"Stop being a ninny," Draco rolled his eyes. "And you were the one that attacked _me_. Besides, it's not raining. It's sprinkling."

Harry extended out his hand and then put it in from of Draco's face, "It's wet. Water is water, and if it falls from the sky it means it's raining."

"You are so over dramatic."

Harry gave him a dirty look, "I would have no need to be anything if we were inside. Hell, I wouldn't mind if it wasn't so cold."

That gave Draco pause, "I have a heated pool."

"I don't care. I'm not talking to you."

"Oh, come on, Harry," said Draco. "It's beautiful. Admit it."

Harry looked about the grounds and nodded after a moment; the grounds were very pretty. The trees were no longer white but were budding with small green leafs that spoke of life after such a long time of horrible weather. There was even the whisper of grass on the ground. Even the house seemed refreshed, if he were to be honest. However, he wasn't feeling too charitable so he chose to say nothing of his appreciation. It served Draco right for dragging him out here. He could have been inside, asleep, or maybe reading. Anything, really, was preferable to this.

"We could go for a run," Draco said glancing at Harry with a careful look.

Harry stopped walking and turned to look at him. He narrowed his eyes and said, "Are you insane? You go on if you want. I will get there eventually."

"You are a lazy arse," Draco intoned shaking his head.

"Have I denied this truth?" asked Harry.

Draco was no longer listening to him, though. They were turning the corner of the house, going towards the back, and the kiosk on the furthest right bank of the lake caught Draco's eye. He pointed to it and asked, "Do you know what that is?"

"A kiosk."

"Nope," Draco grinned. "That's the spot where I did my first strong bout of magic."

Harry looked at his and smiled, "What did you do?"

Draco began laughing, "I gave my father pigtails."

"Really?"

Draco nodded, "Yes. Then, I panicked and apparated into the kitchen with the House Elves. I was lucky I didn't splinch myself, really. Alas, it was to no avail. My parents couldn't find me, and they didn't think to immediately ask the House Elves to search. When they did, however, they found me drinking some juice and eating cake. I was grounded for a week."

"An entire week?" Harry asked with pretend shock.

"That is eternal when you're seven," Draco said in his defense.

Harry started laughing, imagining Lucius with a small girl's hair-do, "I can't believe you did that to your dad."

"It's one of our deep, dark secrets. My mother would only bring it up when she was angry with him," the blond said with a grin.

"I can imagine," Harry said. Then, "Can we go back inside now, please?"

"Alright, you weakling."

"I thought we settled that," Harry nudged him.

Draco blushed and began walking, "I don't know what you're talking about."

They spent the rest of the day exploring the house, going into rooms that looked particularly uninviting. Though every room was clean, some allowed more light in than others. In the large stone building, the darker once carried an air of promise and mystery. Draco hadn't really gone through the home in years. In fact, the last time he had been there, he was twelve, four years before. When Harry had asked if he could explore, Draco had agreed immediately asking to join. They had gone up to the third floor where they discovered a room that resembled an art gallery. There were portraits of Malfoy's ancestors as well as beautiful unnocupied landscapes that reminded Harry vaguely of some of the little pictures he had seen in school when he was very young of Rembrandt's paintings. In the corner of the room, resting on a high table, a little, baby Draco Malfoy shook his little fists up at them as they approached him.

"Is that you?" Harry asked with a smile.

"Mmm hmm," Draco nodded.

"You were kind of adorable," Harry grinned running a finger over the baby's cheek.

He was laying on top of some silken sheets, covered to his waist, because he was obviously not wearing a diaper. The baby's belly was smooth, chubby, and pale leading to a rounded head. His cheeks were rosy, as was his mouth, and his eyes were big. They stood out against the almost transluscent blond of his hair and eyebrows. Their color was magnificent, a bullet gray that pierced them though it was only a painting. Harry turned to look at Draco, never before taking note of the startling color he found there. They were perhaps not as bright as when he was a baby, gaining instead a deeper hue that enriched the overall effect. Somehow, those eyes, coupled with his high cheekbones, a chiseled though smoot jaw, and an elegant neck made him look polished. His wardrobe helped to make him see at all moments as if he had just come off a meeting, or a gala, or perhaps like he had only stepped out of the confines of a frame himself.

"I traded in the dimpled fists and chubby cheeks for a more mature, handsome look," Draco smiled and the effect was kind of amazing, like giving life to a statue.

"Hmm, I don't know. The arrogance is not as appealing as you would imagine. I think I prefer the miniature version," said Harry.

"Well, the world over people wish a face like yours hadn't been born, but we must all learn to compromise," Draco bit back, walking out of the room.

They continued their tour downwards, moving quickly through the second floor that contained nothing but adorned, well furnished rooms and beautiful offices. On the first floor, Harry insisted on going into the kitchens where he conversed with some of the appreciative House Elves and convinced them to make lasagna for dinner. There was really no part of the house to peruse, however, but the basement. Draco had admitted with some hesitance that he had never been allowed to go there and had in fact never even seen it. It made Harry grin in anticipation and lead the way, lighting the tip of his wand when no other source of light was discovered. The space was surprisingly dusty, in comparison to the rest of the home, as if the House Elves themselves had been prohibited from tending to it. They came to the end of the hall and found only one door.

"It's locked," Draco said jiggling the handle.

"Do you mind if I unlock it?" asked Harry.

Draco shook his head and stepped back, "Go ahead."

Harry placed his wand against the door and said, "Alohomora," smiling when the door swung open. They walked forward with apprehension, different but similar expectations of torture chambers going through each of their minds. Instead, however, they found only a round office with a large desk and trinkets everywhere atop the various bookshelves that decorated the walls. Harry tried to step through into the room but immediately retreated shaking his head. He grabbed onto Draco's hand, who was walking in front of him, and pulled him back saying, "Don't go in there."

"What?" Draco asked turning around.

"Just don't," Harry said, feeling as if ants were crawling on his skin. Something wasn't right in there. There was something that was making him uncomfortable.

"Harry, it's just an office," Draco appeased with concern seeing the seriousness on the Gryffindor's face.

Harry shook his head, "No. There's something wrong." He tugged on Draco's hand, "Please don't go in there."

"But-" Draco turned with expectancy, "We came to explore."

Harry tried to take a step forward, but it was like something inside of him was not allowing him to. His stomach felt like lead had dropped inside of it, and his head started aching, "Draco, please."

"Alright, alright," Draco closed the door. "We will go back."

Immediately, Harry felt better. However, he didn't stop until they had made it upstairs. When they passed through the door, it finally felt like he could breathe again. It was with some surprise that he found his hand still clutched Malfoy's, holding it in a tight grip. Draco was looking at him with concern, as if he didn't know what to make of Harry's behavior. It was worrying, certainly, because he had felt nothing while he had been near the room. To him, it was just another office like the many they had visited earlier that afternoon. Yet, the way Potter was acting was genuine. He looked sick. Draco pushed him through into the living room making him sit down. Harry placed his head between his knees, dragging in deep breaths trying to calm himself. Sweat was coating his forehead.

"Potter, what is the matter? Have your last two remaining neurons given up the fight?" Professor Snape asked with a frown coming through the floo to check on them.

"There's something wrong," Harry answered without looking up.

"What are you talking about, dim-wit?"

Draco looked from Harry to Snape and took it upon himself to answer, "We were exploring the house, Professor. We walked into the dungeons and unlocked an office we found there. However, Potter wasn't able to go through the room. He said something was wrong."

Snape narrowed his eyes, "Potter, what did you see?"

"I didn't see anything," Harry looked up. "It was more like a feeling. It was like my skin started to crawl, and I got a head ache. Something in there was- I don't know. Maybe I've finally gone loony."

"No," Snape said. "It's your magic. You detected something."

"What?" asked Harry.

"It is one of the skills our training is supposed to give you, although it seems a bit premature," Snape responded.

Draco looked between them with a calculating glint. So, that was where Potter was going during the week. The question still remained, however. What exactly was Harry doing training with the Potions Master?

"I feel awful," said Harry.

Snape nodded, "Dark Magic, no doubt. Wait here. I'm going to fetch Dumbledore."

They sat together on the couch while they waited, Draco leaving only to fetch Harry a cold glass of water. It somehow made it more bearable, helped clear up his mind. Harry nodded at Draco in gratitude and finished it off quickly. When some of the color had returned to his face, Draco ventured, "So, you train with Professor Snape?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded. There was no use denying what the blond already knew.

"Not going to tell what it's about, then, are you?" Draco asked looking certain.

Harry looked at him for a while, deciding whether or not he could trust him after all of this time. Then, "Core Magic."

"What?" Draco's eyes widened.

"Yeah."

"Potter- Harry, you're too young," Draco said immediately, his voice laced with concern.

The fireplace roared to life, and a stern Dumbledore stepped through followed by Snape, "Now, boys, what is it that you have found?"

iIiIiI

Snape and the Headmaster spent until late in the evening attempting to find what had caused Harry's reaction. Years of practice and discipline allowed them to do what Harry could not; they walked into the room with ease, pushing the discomfort to the back recesses of their minds. There were so many magical artifacts all gathered in one place that it proved difficult for them to find it. In the end, it had not been their fault whatsoever. A small book had fallen behind a bookcase; it looked innocent enough, with a dark red cover. However, when they got near it, Snape had to leave the room for a moment. It was a Horcrux. There was no easy way to let Harry know and absolutely no doubt about it. It was one of the last, and he and Draco had accidentally found it. It had most likely been taken there for safekeeping by Lucius after the Dark Lord's original demise.

Dumbledore and Snape had refused dinner, delaying their leave only to reinforce the protective spells already erected. They left them alone with the promise another member from the Order would check to make sure during the night. When they left, Harry and Draco sat by the fire. Draco's face was devoid of color; whatever he thought they might find down there, whatever dark artifact, he had never expected something like that. In fact, he had only ever heard of Horcruxes in books, mentioned in a sentence or two as the most horrible of curses, taking a piece from someone's soul. Had the Headmaster asked for the Aurors to take Draco immediately, Draco would not have been surprised. He felt boneless and at the sight of Harry's face, he felt heavy guilt pool at the bottom of his stomach. It was almost impossible for him to look in Harry's eyes.

"Dinner, then?" asked Harry a few minutes later.

"If you would like," Draco said looking at his hands.

Harry paused, intent on Draco's tone, "Hey, what's wrong? Did you feel it too?"

"No."

"Draco, this is not your fault," Harry said nudging the Slytherin's arm.

Draco smirked, "It's my home, Potter."

"But not your actions," he said softly. He hit the other's arm and said, "Stop being a git. Let's go have some food. I'm hungry."

Harry all but had to drag him to his feet, and it wasn't until much later that he was able to get him to start speaking as he had done before the incident. It was uncomfortable for sure to have found an artifact such as that there, but in a lot of ways, it was good. It meant one less for them to hunt, one less to waste time on. Professor Dumbledore would take care of it, find a way to destroy it, and in so doing, he would find a way to get them closer to the point that they were all waiting for. The end was coming; it was inevitable, and they were all doing what they could to make it get there as fast as possible. Draco had just gotten them a step closer.

iIiIiI

Two days later, things were finally getting back to normal. Draco had given in to Harry's constant nagging and was acting like his old, annoying self again. As it was, however, they were running out of things to do. They had explored, they had walked the grounds, and they had spent the previous afternoon taking a lazy nap while the rain beat against Draco's window. There was absolutely no way either of them wanted to come into contact with a book until they were once again forced to; it all left their options very limited. Draco had forced them to go running earlier in the morning, pushing Harry not to quit even when the Gryffindor begain proclaiming he thought he had burst an intestine. He followed it by saying that perhaps he had a hernia, or maybe one of his lungs had given up on him. A half hour later, Draco finally allowed them to quit, and Harry had laid on the cold stone ground of the kitchen for an hour, refusing to move aside from bringing his hand to his mouth, which clutched a licorice wand.

"What type of crap host are you, Malfoy?" Harry asked. "I'm bored."

"And what would you like me to do about it?" Draco fired, laying on the ground with his feet resting on the sofa.

Harry kicked Draco's feet off and laid down on the couch. He stared at the high ceiling and blew out some air, "I don't know. Make it better, more exciting."

"Would you like to go find another Horcrux, perhaps?" came the stiff reply.

"Don't be a prat. I'm serious. Let's go do something entertaining," Harry urged.

"The lake is unfrozen, if you want to go take a dive and stay there. At the bottom, preferably," Draco grinned.

"I'm not as dumb as you look, Malfoy," Harry said. "There must be something for us to do."

Draco sat up, "We could go swimming."

"I'm busy doing nothing right now. Could I ignore you some other time?"

"I'm serious," Draco swatted Harry's leg. "I told you I have a heated pool."

"What?" Harry asked sitting up. "I thought you were joking."

"No," Draco shook his head. "It's on the third floor, past the double doors you didn't want to go into, because you wanted to come back downstairs."

"Yes, yes!" Harry cried grabbing on to Draco's hand. He dragged him up the stairs, saying, "Come on," as excited as a five-year-old on Christmas Day.

Some minutes later, Draco was overseeing some of the House Elves as they raised the tarp covering the pool and filled it with water. Once filled, the House Elves united hands and the two on the end, directed their open palms at the water. In seconds, it was warm. It was one of their tricks, Draco's favorite, if he was honest. They were gifted with talents that allowed them to make household chores easier. It was interesting to watch them use their magic in such a way; to even the untrained eye it was obvious that House Elves were powerful. It was a surprise to fully understand that they were comfortable in their positions as servants. Draco could not understand that mentality but was thankful he had them under his command. It made things a lot easier, to say the least.

Draco was just testing the water with the tip of his toe when Harry came through the doors. "Holy shit," Draco said under his breath. Harry was only wearing a pair of Draco's trunks which hung low on his hips; his chest was chiseled and cut, the meeting ground between two well defined arms. Lower, Harry's stomach was flat, a six pack leading all the way down to...Harry looked good. Damned good. He guessed. Whatever. Draco turned away with a blush and cleared his throat, "The water is warm."

"I think all our late night chocolate has made me gain weight," Harry said patting his stomach.

Draco was more than ready to call bullshit on that statement but chose instead to dive under the water. Returning to the surface, he asked, "Are you coming in?"

In response, Harry took a running start and splashed down. He swam over to Draco and said, "I have a gift for you." Then, he commenced splashing water on his face. It went like that for the next hour.

iIiIiI

"Hey, Potter," Draco said later that night.

They were laying on his bed, and Harry was reading a book while he had rested with his eyes closed. Something had been bothering him all day, but he had not wanted to say anything in case it was not his place to intrude. The truth was, however, that he was concerned. Ever since Harry had mentioned that he was training in Core Magic, Draco had felt uneasy. Core Magic was difficult to learn and only the strongest of wizards, and the wisest, attempted it. It was like creating a mental channel that allowed instant and uninhibited access to one's magic, and it was dangerous. People had died doing it. Their magic could get out of their control, accidentally kill them, or the magic all around them could overpower their bodies and shut down their systems. He had been reading a book once that mentioned it in passing when he was younger, and his parents had taken it away from him as soon as they had found out. It was no joke. Horrible things could happen when wizards tempered with the foundation of their magic.

"Yeah?" Harry looked over at him, a little sleepy after reading for so long.

Draco bit his lip and sat up, unsure of how to being, "I know that you have considered suing your brains for nonsupport and everything, but I think it's my job to tell you this regardless if you can understand the words coming out of my mouth. I really don't think you should be meddling with Core Magic."

"Talk is cheap, but so are you," Harry grinned. Then, seeing Drdaco's glare, he rolled his eyes, "Alright, why not, Draco?"

"Because, _Harry_, it's dangerous. Really dangerous. Wizards twice our age attempt it and die. It's no joke. Have you maybe asked Dumbledore how long it took him to learn? I know it was him that put you up to this, because he seems to think you can take on anything-"

"Don't you?" Harry asked with a cocky smile.

"Shut up, Potter. I'm serious. You're only sixteen. You shouldn't be involved in it; I mean, your magic is still developing. Did you know that? Your magic doesn't settle until you're in your early twenties. Even then, people don't start thinking about messing with anything that has to do with where their magic comes from until their mid-thirties, at the earliest," said Draco.

"Malfoy, I really don't think that Professor Dumbledore would put me up to this if he thought I would die," Harry insisted.

"Because he probably thinks that he can stop you if it gets too dangerous. Well, he's an idiot. You have already done enough damage. Your magic will never be the same, and I mean that. He knows this too, and if he wasn't so arrogant he could see that. Harry, people have gone insane because of Core Magic. They wake up one day and they start feeling everyone's magic around them, or worse, Magic itself. It's everywhere, you know. The only reason why we don't feel its pull is because when we're born, our Magical Core protects our brains from it. I- I don't think I can stress enough the danger of what you're doing," Draco finished trying to get it through Harry's head.

Harry got a serious look in his eyes and contemplated Draco's words. He took a deep breath and exhaled, "I have to beat Voldemort."

"Harry-"

"No, I'm serious," Harry stopped him. Then, he was telling him thing he hadn't even told Ron and Hermione, "I- the entire world rests on my hands. I have to do something, anything, to be able to beat him. Do you think that I'm equipped to beat the Darkest wizard of all time? No, of course not. I'm scared as hell half of the time, and the other half I'm worried, constantly worried that I'm not strong enough or powerful enough to go through it. I'm not just making this stuff up; there's a prophesy. If I don't- if I don't learn Core Magic, I don't have a shot. That means that _you _don't have a shot, that the world doesn't have a shot."

"Look at me, and please see how serious I am," Draco urged him. "You will be doing no one any good if you go and learn this shit if you're not ready. You will die. It's not some time of weakness; it's just that our bodies, our brains, aren't prepared for that type of stress at this age. You're too young and volatile this early on. If there is a prophesy and you die- if you die, no one has a chance. The Headmaster has no right to ask this of you. He has no right to ask a sixteen-year-old student to fight against a maniac. If he can't finish the Dark Lord off, him, supposedly the greatest wizard of all time, how can he ask this of you?"

"I have no choice."

"You always have a choice," Draco said sternly.

"Then why doesn't it ever feel like it?" Harry asked looking down at his hands. They were quiet for a moment, sitting side by side on the bed, their legs brushing ever so slightly. After a moment, Harry looked up and gave a small smile, "And you say you haven't gone soft."

"I haven't," Draco sniffed. "I just brainstorm very well."

"Draco," Harry grinned, "the closest you will ever get to a brainstorm is a drizzle."

"Arse."

"Why, thank you," Harry said and smacked him with his book.

"Anyway, maybe tomorrow we can go for another run?" Draco prompted, trying to put aside their conversation.

"I can't," Harry said seriously. "I think my appendix is broken."

iIiIiI

Hey, everyone. Here's another chapter. PLEASE REVIEW. You are all blowing me away with your responses. I hoped you like it, and I can't wait to hear what you thought. I didn't get time to spell check, because I'm in a hurry and am trying to get it out to you guys as soon as possible. Please forgive any mistakes or typos.

Cyber hugs,

Aly


	13. Chapter 13

"I wish every day was like this," Harry breathed out feeling the pleasantness of warm air threading through his hair.

It was nearing the end of their break, and the weather had, in a bizarre twist, decided to cooperate with them. Instead of frigid, uncomfortable coldness, a hint of Spring was in the air. The sun was out, shining on the budding flowers that the House Elves had planted a few days prior. It glinted off the surface of the lake, making it somehow even more beautiful to be outside. They were sitting out in the sun in a clearing on the left bank of the lake nearest to the house. The water was rippling with the breeze, giving a sense of peace and calmness to the environment that had not been there a few days before. Beside him, Draco was lying on his back, facing the sun with closed eyes, enjoying the warmth while it lasted. Hearing Harry's words, his eyes blinked open and closed slowly, as if he was sleepy after all of their time outside. They had not been inside since the early morning when they had first stepped out. It seemed like a complete waste of a beautiful day to stay indoors. Instead, they had taken a basket with them, resting by Draco's side, and had decided that they would have lunch by the lake. It had been the best day since they had gotten there, though they had really done nothing but sun themselves.

"We should move off the coast somewhere," Draco said sleepily. "That way, it would always be like this."

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "Maybe even Florida."

"What, like in the States?" Draco asked turning on his side. "Ugh, could you imagine the fan girls crowding you? Your underpants might go missing while you are walking down the street."

Harry winced, "Maybe not the States then. Greece would be nice. Yeah?"

"Or Portugal," Draco pointed out.

"I have always wanted to go to Italy," said Harry.

Draco contemplated a thought for a moment and asked, "Where all have you traveled so far? That way we know what's left."

"Nowhere, really," Harry said ducking his head. A soft blush tinted his cheeks, "I was never really taken on any of the family vacations."

Draco sat up and stretched while he yawned. He focused on Harry and shook his head, his eyes going a little harder than they had been, "These Muggles you stayed with sound bloody horrible. No matter, though. Where would you like to go first?"

"What, are you serious?" Harry asked with a surprised laugh. "Draco, I was only joking."

"Why joke?" the Slytherin asked. "I have money; we can do whatever you want. So, where is it to be then?"

Harry smiled in good humor but rolled his eyes, "May I remind you that we're in the middle of a war. One, may I add, which is being headed by a Dark wizard that wants us both dead. I don't think we will be able to go on any vacations any time soon, money or no money."

Draco gave a suffering sigh, "Well then after the war. Come on, Potter. You have to think big. This isn't going to go on forever, and hopefully when it does end you and I will come out on top on the other end. You have to plan ahead so that you know what you have to do after it's over."

Harry looked at him for a long moment but then shrugged, giving in, "Alright then. I have seen pictures of Venice, and it looks beautiful."

"It does," Draco agreed. "I actually haven't been there yet. Okay, where else?"

"Spain sounds awfully nice," said Harry.

Draco thought about it and reluctantly agreed, "It is. I was there when it was bloody hot, though, so I didn't enjoy it as much as I thought I would have. I was also thirteen, so what did I know? Would you like to visit Australia? It's quite nice."

"Oh, we're talking transcontinental as well?" Harry asked.

"Of course, Potter. Wherever you want to go. Just pick and choose, and we will make it happen," Draco smiled laying back down.

"We are just playing, right?"

"No."

"Oh-" Harry paused. "You would want to go to all of those places with me?"

Draco turned his face and opened one eye, "Definitely. You need someone of my caliber to show you the finer things in life."

"May I borrow your face while my arse is on holiday?"

"Oh, shut up and keep going. What else do you want to do?" Draco prompted him waving away the insult, actually interested in what Harry had to say. "When we were in Grimmauld Place you didn't tell anyone what you wanted to do after Hogwarts. So, what will it be then?"

Harry cocked his head, "You noticed that."

"Yes; don't avoid the question," Draco glowered.

"Alright, alright," Harry held up his hands in defense. "But you can't make fun of me."

"Potter-"

"I'm not sure, really," Harry said, thinking. "I have always said that I would become an Auror; I mean, it's the only thing I'm really good at."

Draco knotted his brows, "Potter, I sincerely doubt that is the only thing you are good at. I mean, look at you, you have almost accomplished looking civilized. After that, you can do anything."

"Thanks for that."

"Come on; expand your horizons. What would you like to do, deep inside?"

Harry bit his lip in thought, "I guess- I guess what I really want is a family. I mean, not right after school or anything, but in my future. I want kids and house just like this one. In fact, since it is my dream, it would be this one. It would be a place where no one could go and touch the people I love. Oh, and I would create an organization for orphans, give them a really nice place where they could go and have a mentoring system so that they wouldn't feel alone. If they were abused, people would be there to listen too, so that they would feel safe, no matter if they were staying with people that were somehow related to them. After that, I might become an Auror, or maybe a Seeker for a Quidditch team. Oh, and birthdays would be a big deal, a huge deal. Everyone's, not just mine. We would have cake in bed and then we would throw huge parties and everyone would attend, the Weasleys, Dumbledore, hell, even Snape. _And_ we would take at least one vacation every year, my partner and I, and then with the kids. We would go all over the world and see all that there is to see. I would be Ron's best man when he marries Hermione, and you and I would share quiet days together, just like this one, off in Prague or the Mediterranean. It would be perfect, but not too perfect, and no one could ever take it away from me."

"Wow," Draco said, not expecting all of that to rush out of Harry as if it was some deep, dark secret he was finally getting off his chest. He nodded and smiled, "There, now you have something to live for. Now you can't give up or lose, because you have to do all of that stuff. We have plans now, Harry."

iIiIiI

"You're not very smart, are you?" Harry asked Draco hours later when they were back inside in the living room. "Some drink from the fountain of knowledge, but you just gargled."

"There are a number of people I find annoying in this world, and you are all of them," Draco responded from an armchair doing his best not to move.

Neither had thought to put on sunscreen earlier, and they had remained in the sun for hours on end, only coming in a few minutes before dinner was served. Draco had taken his shirt off while out there, determined to get as much heat as was possible, exposing his pale skin to the sun. Now, his entire back was a painful shade of red so vibrant Harry had to wince when Draco moved at all and complained about the pain. The Slytherin's nose and cheeks were burned as well, and his hair had gone even fairer that it had been. Had Harry not seed it with his own eyes, he would have thought it absolutely impossible. The only reason why it had gotten so bad was that they had both accidentally fallen asleep. Thankfully, Harry had rolled into the shade of a tree near them and was now only a slight shade darker than he was before. His skin was a nice olive color now and his tanned complexion made his eyes stand out even more against the darkness of his hair. When Draco had noticed he had been appreciative of the sight and then had immediately cursed him. The blond found it completely unfair that he was doing a right side imitation of a pained lobster while Harry got all of the benefits of being outside.

A House Elf interrupted Harry's response going over to Draco quickly and depositing a small vial into his hand. She had been sent to fetch a potion from the apothecary and had returned very quickly. The Elf instructed Draco to go upstairs and take a shower, bathing his body with the liquid. She warned that while it would not make him completely better, it would dull the pain and take away the worst of the sunburn. Nodding his gratitude, Draco dismissed her and told Harry he would be back as soon as he could. He walked slowly into one of the downstairs bathrooms and closed the door. He was in there for nearly thirty minutes, allowing his skin to soak in the potion. He didn't really feel it working, except for the fact that it no longer hurt to have the spray of the water hit his back. He lathered himself and rinsed off, stepping out of the shower and going to look at himself in the mirror to inspect the damage. The House Elf had been right. The bridge of his nose was still a bit red and the rest of him was tender, but it was gone for the most of it. Stretching his limbs, Draco wrapped a towel around himself and headed outside, having to go upstairs to get some actual clothes. He had been in so much pain that the idea of going upstairs into his personal bathroom hadn't even crossed his mind as a possibility.

Still sitting on the couch, Harry had to do a double take when he walked into the room. Harry had never really noticed how tall Malfoy was, highlighted now by the length of his legs. His upper body was long and smooth, chiseled out by a six pack that moved onto an elegant neck. Draco's eyes scanned the room in a predatory sort of fashion, though the blond didn't seem to notice, as if he was taking in everything that was around him without giving anything away. His hair was wet and clung to his head, sending small water rivlets running on top of his nose, which was by now only vaguely red. It took a moment for Harry to realize that the potion had worked. Clearing his throat, Harry concentrated on the book on his lap, focusing on the written word as Draco went upstairs.

"That's much better," Draco said a few minutes later, descending wearing Harry's sweatpants and one of his shirts.

"You do realize that you're a young millionaire who could buy my wardrobe like a hundred times over? Maybe you should invest on some of your own clothes," Harry said.

"But why, when yours fit so well?" Draco asked with an innocent smile.

Harry shook his head, "That look doesn't make you look angelic, idiot. It makes you look like you have vowel movement problems."

"Don't get hissy, because you have no sense of control. I asked you if I could borrow them," Draco pointed out.

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "And I agreed to let you _borrow _them, but you have all but appropriated them."

"That's true," Draco gave in.

"If you're ever in Muggle England, I can take you to get some," Harry proposed.

Draco thought about it and nodded, "I have never been in the Muggle world, actually. My parents found it uncouth."

"It's quite fun. There are these huge building called malls that have all types of stores in them that sell clothes, shoes, and all kinds of different things. It's like a playground if you can afford all that's in them," Harry smiled, his eyes lighting as he remembered the stores of which he spoke. "There are even stores where you can go and get tailored to get suits even better than the ones you have."

"Impossible," Draco said looking affronted.

"It wasn't an insult; think of it more as an incentive. If we ever get around to actually doing it, I can take you to one of them and you can get a ridiculously expensive suit, and I can gloat afterwards. Oh, and maybe we could stop for a burger too. I miss burgers so much," said Harry.

"What's that?" Draco asked suspiciously. "It sounds like a disease."

Harry laughed, "Au contraire, it is deliciousness packed into two buns."

"Mon ami, j'ai peur que la folie soit plus mauvaise que j'aie eu la pensée," said Draco.

"Oh, you speak French?" Harry asked caught off guard.

"Yes," Draco nodded. "And German, Portuguese, and a bit of Greek. My father insisted I learn all of the languages of the countries with whom we do heavy business. I refused to learn Chinese, and my Spanish could use some brushing up on. Pero, puedo decir que tu cabeza me recuerda ha un balon lleno de agua. No tiene nada de substancia."

"I'm sure you managed to pack an insult in there somewhere," Harry glared.

Draco tapped his finger to his chin, "If only you could prove it. Anyway, being a Pureblood has its upsides. I get to know a lot of extra languages with which to insult you. It's actually a practice that most have let go. In the olden days, every member of every Pureblood family was required to know at least the language of their ancestors, which is why I imagine Weasley's mother knows German. As time passed, however, many lost sight of where they came from or stopped caring. I remember wishing desperately as a little kid that my mother would just wake up one day and not remember that her family came from France. I hated learning it the most."

"Wow, I feel inept," Harry grinned.

"It's a feeling I'm sure you are used to," Draco winked at him and walked off in the direction of the kitchens, leaving Harry alone.

iIiIiI

"Here," Draco threw a heavy book at Harry's stomach that knocked the breath out of him the next afternoon.

He walked over and joined him on the couch, having only just returned from the attic where he had been hunting down that particular tome, "You should read that if you're going to continue being an idiot."

"What is it?" Harry asked leafing through the pages, finding only tiny script.

"That is what we humans call a book, Potter, now keep up," Draco taunted. He took the book gently from Harry's hands and searched the index, opening it to the right page, "It's so that you learn more about Core Magic. This tells you what you really need to know, and it maps out exactly what can and has gone wrong in the past. I know you aren't going to listen to me, and I know that you're only going to give the book half a mind, but I will feel less guilty at your funeral if you read and find out exactly what can go wrong. This way at least you will be prepared for the worst and can work to make sure that it doesn't happen."

Harry read a few sentences and looked up, "How do you have this?"

"I don't know," Draco answered honestly. "When I was younger I was pretending to read like my dad, and I grabbed it off a bookshelf. I started reading out loud, but when my mother heard me she took it away from me, and she instructed my father to hide it. I remembered it only because I liked the purple binding."

"I don't know what to say, Draco," said Harry looking at the book.

"There's a surprise," Draco said but lessened the blow with a smile.

"For being a complete part, you are surprisingly not all together useless."

"For a compliment, it will have to do," Draco grinned. He stood up and reached a hand out to pull Harry up as well, "Anyway, I hope you're hungry."

"I am actually," Harry said leaning over to put the book down.

Draco glanced at the curve of Harry's neck and licked his upper lip, "That's good. Me too."

"What are we having?" Harry asked leading the way to the kitchen.

"Hopefully nothing that will kill us," Draco said cryptically.

A few minutes later, the House Elves sat out their meal, grandly decorating a silver platter stacked with what looked like -"Hamburgers," Harry exclaimed in surprise.

"I wish I was that easy to please," Draco sighed, joking, and thanked the House Elves, dismissing them.

"You did this?" Harry asked with wide eyes.

"What? No."

"Draco, this is actually nice," Harry gave him the softest of smiles.

Draco rolled his eyes, "I'm not made of ice, you know. Not completely."

iIiIiI

That night, they were laying comfortably atop Draco's bed, talking in the darkness. While on vacation, Harry had actually been able to sleep in a separate room on a bed all to himself. Since they were in his home, Draco didn't feel threatened, and it was a relief for Harry to go to sleep without the constant warmth of the necklace on his chest. In fact, the entire trip, the necklace had remained cool for the most part, only coming alive now and then when Draco described a particularly touching moment he had shared with his mother while at their home. Even having slept apart, however, it was becoming a habit for them to sit together on Draco's bed and converse well into the night. It was like a safe haven where nothing that either of them said was really judged. Once Harry's feet hit the ground, the moment was lost and they both went off to their separate beds with their separate thoughts.

The night had grown cool once again, the good weather all but a brief and distant memory. The fireplace was lit, casting cheery light about the stone room, making everything seem warmer and more homey than during the day. Draco's upper body was resting against the various pillows by the top of the bed and he was leaning his head on the headboard. His eyes were half closed as if he would slip off to sleep at any moment, but a small smile played on his lips as he contemplated the words coming out of Harry's mouth. The Gryffindor was laying down on his belly playing with the bells of Draco's stuffed dragon as he had grown fond of doing since Christmas. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a light top, his feet bare as he swung them back and forth. Draco was already in pijamas, ready to rest after they finished their conversation.

"Draco?"

"Hmm," said Draco turning his attention to Harry.

Harry set the small dragon aside, "You know how you asked me about my dreams the other day? I never got to hear what you want to do."

Draco bit his lip for a second, "You know, I really have no idea. I have thought about it, but I never really made up my mind. There always seemed to be more time to figure it out. Besides, my father always expected me to go into business, so I never really contemplated anything else seriously."

"Well, that doesn't seem fair," said Harry. "Do you want to go into business?"

"Meh," Draco said noncommitally. "I think I would be really good at it, and I actually think that I will enjoy it. There's just something about having it already picked out for me that bothers me, I guess. I have actually thought about becoming a Potions Master, like Snape, or maybe a Dragon Handler," he said with a grin, glad when Harry laughed at the irony.

"Potions? Really?"

"I think that particular one stemmed from having grown up seeing Snape around my home. He wouldn't come often, but when my father did convince him to visit he always looked so dignified and scary. I remember wanting to get close enough to touch him, to see if he was actually real. I think I used to think he was a ghost, because he reminded me of smoke. Then my father told me what he did, and I asked immediately for a potions set. My mother yelled at my father for getting it for me; she thought it was too dangerous. I loved it, though, and I was really pleased when Snape stayed longer one afternoon to explain to me how to properly brew a simple concoction. It was exciting," Draco smiled remembering those days.

Harry cocked his head, "But you don't want to do that anymore?"

"No," Draco shook his head. "I don't think that I could sit in a cold, dark room waiting for potions to be ready. I like the sun, and as a professional rule Potions Masters keep their brewing spaces in dark spaces so that the sunlight doesn't interfere with the potions' ingredients."

"Anything else, then, besides a Dragon Handler? What about your personal life?" the Gryffindor questioned.

Draco sat up straighter, shifting his weight, "I have a mind for business, whether I like it or not. I think I'll just get bloody rich."

"You're already bloody rich," Harry pointed out.

Draco grinned, "That's true. Regardless, I think I will do very well handling my inheritance. As for a family, I have never really thought of it. I expected my parents to arrange a marriage for me with some witch from an important family."

"That's horrible," Harry frowned.

"Yes," Draco agreed. "It's also how my parents met. Purebloods marry for convenience most of the time; now, though, I guess I won't really have that happen. If I had to answer your question and I had it my way, I think I would find someone who loved me, and I would give them everything."

"To love _you_? Don't you think it would help for you to love her too?"

Draco grinned, "Loving him might be acceptable." Harry stared at him long and hard, and Draco laughed, "Don't look so shocked, Potter. I have seen people look like that, but I had to pay admission. Anyway, I think I will have a family, perhaps a large one. I always did want brothers and sisters. I would spoil that crap out of them."

Harry shuddered, "Oh, the horror. More little monsters like you? What would this world come to?"

iIiIiI

"Potter, come down from there," Draco shouted. "You will break a limb, and I will be tempted to leave you like that."

Harry was currently hanging upside down from a tree. His legs were swung over a branch, holding him in place while his upper body dangled a few feet above Draco. They were in the woods by the house on the tree with Draco's childhood treehouse, and Harry had decided it would be a good idea to go in there. It didn't matter, of course, that he was too big to fit in. Once he got stuck, he merely broke out and started dangling off the branches like a monkey, smiling delightedly at Draco's concern. If it weren't for the fact that he was not happy with the way the idiot was acting, Draco might have been forced to admit that it was kind of amusing to see how much of a little kid Harry seemed to be. His head apparently stop developing when he was a five-year-old, because there was no way that someone with some sense would be acting this way.

"This isn't funny, Potter. Come down."

"Okay," Harry said brightly swinging around and jumping off. He landed bent, almost on one knee and got off the ground throwing his hands in the air, "And he sticks the landing!"

"You're an idiot," Draco said refusing to acknowledge him, looking away into the distance.

Harry turned his head away with mock coyness, "Oh, stop, Draco. You're making me blush."

"You must owe the cosmic forces that be a fortune for having made such a mistake with you," Draco said coldly.

"Calm down, drama queen. I'm fine. See," Harry held up his hands, "no harm done."

"You're an idiot. How did you learn to do that?" Draco asked against his better judgment.

They began walking back slowly and Harry said, "When I was younger, I had to find ways to entertain myself. Dudley would go off on playdates with his friends, and my aunt Petunia would go along, leaving me alone with my uncle. I would get out of the house as soon as they left, because I just seemed to annoy him. I would go off in the backyard or sometimes down to the park. When all the swings were being used or I had nothing else to do, I would climb trees. I had to be very careful so that I didn't get hurt, because I wasn't sure if they would take me to the hospital. I also had to figure out a way to get off quickly in case my aunt got back early and had me help with dinner. So, I devised that little stunt. I got banged up a couple of times, but it wasn't too bad, _and_ I never got caught in a tree. One of my proudest accomplishments."

"Why would you be afraid to be caught in a tree?" Draco asked scrunching his brow.

"Are you kidding me?" Harry laughed. "Do you know how long that would get me locked up in the cupboard? My aunt and uncle didn't like me doing anything out of the ordinary. They were too afraid I might turn out like my mom and discouraged me from doing the sorts of things that might make it come on."

"Make what come on, exactly?"

"My magic," was the simple answer.

"Wait," Draco stopped him with a hand on Harry's chest. "The wouldn't let you do magic?"

"Well, they are Muggles, Draco. They are afraid of what they don't know," Harry answered.

Draco shook his head, "Idiots, acting as if magic is anything to be ashamed of. They deserve to be carted off into Askaban for child abuse."

"It wasn't that bad-"

"Not that bad? Harry, they locked you in a cupboard. That's not normal; what type of monsters are they? Honestly, not even animals treat their young that way. Stop it," Draco stopped Harry short. He was grinning as if what they were talking about wasn't important. "It's not funny. They had no right to do that to you, and I will not have you making it seem as if it was okay. If you had been in our world, there is no way that magical law would have allowed them to carry on that way. At least they didn't hurt you...right? Harry?"

Harry looked away uncomfortably, "Can we change the subject please?"

"Not until you answer my question."

"It's not important," Harry insisted.

"The hell it's not," Draco frowned making them halt their movement. He pointed by a foot of a tree, "Sit."

"Draco-"

"No."

Harry sighed, "You're not going to give this up, are you?"

"Not until you tell me exactly what they did to you. Then, I will go and get in contact with my lawyers and we will get them carted off to prison," Draco said matter-of-factly.

"You can't do that."

"Watch me," Draco responded seriously.

"Draco, no. I mean it," Harry said looking at him in the eye. "If-if I tell you, will you please promise not to pursue it? I still have to live with them. _Please_."

Draco looked uneasy but nodded, not sure how much truth lied in that careful movement, "Alright, go on."

"First let me explain: they didn't ask for me. I was literally dumped on their doorstep when I was a baby after Voldemort killed my parents. My aunt hadn't spoken to my mother in years, because she didn't like my father, and they told me that my parents had died in a car crash. I mean, I was lucky there was anyone to take care of me at all. They might not have been the nicest of people, but they put a roof over my head, even if it was just a cupboard, and gave me clothes. It doesn't matter if they were too big for me, at least I had some at all. Can you really blame them for getting exasperated with a kid they never wanted?" Harry asked with helpless eyes.

"Yes," Draco nodded sitting on the ground next to him, their legs touching.

Harry shook his head, "I can't. I mean, sure it was pretty horrible to be so little locked in such a tiny space. I didn't know if they were ever going to let me out, but I got through it. I- I was scared for so long that they would just kick me out of their house, that I would finally become too much of a burden, and taking a hit now and then because I got in the way was better than not being in the way at all. Draco, I had no one, literally no one, but them. I have nothing but to be thankful for everything that they did for-"

"Thankful?" Draco exploded. "Are you fucking kidding me? Harry, anyone in the wizarding world would have bent backwards if it meant that they would have had the privilege to take care of you. The people you stayed with are animals that deserve not your gratitude but a stint in jail. If anyone had known that this was going on, do you think the world would have stood by while this happed to you, you who got rid of You-Know-Who? There is no bloody way. You can't be this noble forever, Harry. You have a right to be angry."

"I-" Harry began but couldn't finish. There was a tight sort of feeling in his chest, like a really tight fist was squeezing his insides. His stomach was all knotted, and he really didn't want to be talking like this. It embarrassed him to have to share all the demeaning things he had gone through as a kid. It was kind of live revisiting a nightmare over and over, knowing that he had to go back to it after school let out. "I'm fine."

"Yes, you are," Draco grabbed his hand, "but only because you have a ridiculous, Gryffindor, stupidly indomitable spirit. Harry, look at me. No one has a right to make you go through anything you don't wish to go through. I won't let them."

And the thing was, as crazy as it might sound, Harry kind of believed him.

iIiIiI

Hey, everyone. Here's today's installment. Let me know what you think and please REVIEW! Thanks so much!

Aly


	14. Chapter 14

"Ah, shit. Could you be more careful with that?" Dean hissed out as Hermione pointed her wand at his nose.

Hermione frowned. "If you would just hold still I wouldn't have hit you. Now stop moving. I can do this cleanly only if you stop squirming. Episky. There," Hermione nodded in satisfaction, rearranging Dean's broken nose.

It was the first Thursday since they had come back from their holiday, and they had all returned to an increasingly volatile territory. The Slytherins were growing more uneasy, were faster to be contemptible, eager to make something happen. When they walked down the hall surrounding Draco, they could practically feel the Slytherins' eyes raking over them seeking to find some weakness in their defenses. It had become so blatantly obvious that even the professors had become aware, doubling their number in between classes. The Gryffindors had taken no chances and had no choice but to crowd around Draco as they rushed him from class to class. Even the other houses were taking notice that something was very wrong. Everyone had been suspicious, of course, but until now there had been no concrete evidence that Malfoy was in danger. The looks in Draco's former classmates' eyes left no doubt now. They were out for blood, and they wanted it soon.

All the other students skirted around them and avoided concentrated numbers of Slytherins down the hall. Draco had suggested in a meeting with the Headmaster that something must have happened over the break; it made no sense to him that the majority would throw caution to the wind in such a manner after waiting patiently for a moment to strike for so long. Professor Dumbledore had proclaimed some concern vaguely suggesting that discontent was growing among Voldemort's ranks as the violence outside of Hogwarts continued. The Death Eaters knew something big was coming and they were all bidding on Draco's head to move upwards in Voldemort's inner circle when the real time of danger came. Draco had received the message clearly and hand nodded his understanding. As everything was being explained to them, Harry's face had only gotten harder. Though he knew the seriousness of the situation, it was an alien feeling to feel so resentful of people inside the school. Yet, he was. He was angry, below the surface and behind his calm exterior, and he was scared. He knew what desperation could do to people, and he knew that it could drive them to great lengths. It was immediately after that conversation that Harry had left Draco in his rooms and had gone to speak with his friends. It was because of him that their guard had been reinforced, and it was his fault that Dean's nose was broken.

Earlier that day, Dennis Feldman, the son of a lower Death Eater as Draco had later explained, had tried to physically break up their group to allow the other Slytherins a clear shot at Malfoy. It had failed, obviously, and Dean had forcefully pushed him back while Harry, Hermione, and Seamus pushed Draco down the hall into an unoccupied classroom. By the time that Harry had come back, Dean and Dennis were on the ground, scuffling for dominance. It was unsettling to see such anger contorting the Slytherin's face, as if something was driving him to get to Draco. It made Harry wonder under what pressure the Slytherins must be. When Professor McGonagall had finally separated them, both students were bloody and bruised. The Gryffindor Head of House had taken Dennis with her directly to Dumbledore's office and she had instructed Dean to go to the infirmary after taking away points from both houses. In his anger, Dean had refused and had instead returned to Gryffindor Tower where he waited for the others to return. Hermione had been the only one brave enough to say anything, and she had insisted on healing his nose before permanent damage was done.

"Stupid Slytherin. He's lucky I didn't do more damage," Dean winced when his nose popped. "I would like to see Malfoy try and defend himself. Fucking ninny, so soft that-"

"Hey, don't," Harry said sternly. "Don't talk about him that way."

"He's the reason why- Ow! Hermione, don't yank on it. It's still tender," Dean batted away the witch's hands.

Hermione and Ron exchanged looks, knowing all too well the fight Harry's face promised. Ron nodded imperceptibly, "Harry, why don't you go and check on Malfoy? I think Hermione has Dean all mended up here."

Harry looked at him and nodded, "Thanks."

"Go ahead, Harry," Hermione urged.

As Harry was walking out the door, Hermione yanked on Dean's nose again when he started running his mouth.

iIiIiI

When Harry knocked on Draco's door a little later, the blond opened it with a smile. It was a relief to see that the idiot wasn't hurt; after they had stuffed him in the abandoned classroom, Harry had hurried outside to help Dean out of the fight. Amid the confusion, Hermione had urged him to hurry to one of the hidden passages and had asked him to go to his rooms, promising that she would tell Harry where he was. Draco had not liked it but agreed, knowing there was nothing he could really do. It irked him that someone was out there fighting his own battles, but he was more than willing to admit that it was much better than the alternative. He would take being alive rather than dead any day.

"Hey, are you okay?" asked Draco.

Harry grinned at the irony as he pushed into the room, "You're asking me if _I'm _okay? May I remind you someone tried to charge at _you_ less than an hour ago."

"Yes, but you were the one dumb enough to go out and get in the middle of it," Draco pointed out. Then, "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Harry said but a frown was playing on his face.

"Bullshit. Did you get hurt? How's Dean?" Draco searched Harry's face for a clue.

Harry threw himself on Draco's bed and looked a the ceiling, "It's nothing, just drop it."

"Honestly, Potter? You're talking to someone with intellect that leaves your diminutive one shivering with fear. I'm going to get it out of you, so why don't you just save us all the headache, your hair included, and go ahead and tell me what's going on?" Draco said in a matter-of-fact voice.

Harry shook his head, "I think you're going to have to end up buying a restaurant when you get older. The amount of food that's going to take to feed your ego-"

"Harry-"

Harry pushed himself off the bed and shook his head, "Just-"

"Harry," Draco insisted grabbing on to his wrist, laying the palm of his hand on the Gryffindor's side, "Why are you so upset?"

"I'm not upset."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Oh, please. Those suffering eyes you're putting on are so pitiful that they could stop several world wars. Tell me what's the matter."

Harry sighed, "It's nothing. Dean just said- something, and it annoyed me. He had no right-"

Draco dropped his wrist and took a step back, "It was about me, right?"

"Hey, don't," Harry said taking a hold of the front of Draco's robes, pulling him forward again, "It was not your fault. He's just upset, and- gah! He had no right to say anything. It's not as if you can help that there are raving lunatics out there stupid enough to try and come at you. The least they could do is know that your sheer dumbness is enough to deflect any form of attack. What?"

Draco was smiling at him with an unreadable, soft look, "You care about me."

"Of course I care about you. You're one of my best friends. I mean-" Harry put his hand to his mouth immediately, as if to physically stop it from saying anything more.

Draco grinned, "So, I'm your _best _friend, am I?"

"No."

"Oh, wee little Potter. Couldn't help but fall for my undeniable charm. It's a sad day when my sworn enemy can't resist the perfection that is me," Draco taunted joyously.

"I didn't mean that. I must have overheated or something," Harry insisted.

Draco gave him an impossible look full of happy frustration, "Harry, it's so cold outside that even your invincible hair would get a cold and die."

Harry blushed, "Alright, maybe you're tolerable."

Draco laughed and grabbed his hand, making him twirl, "I think I'm much more than tolerable, Harry. Look at this handsome face. I'm damn near irresistible."

Harry smacked him and pushed him off, but he could feel the warmth of Draco's hands on his hand and his side long after they were gone. Fighting a smile at Draco's ridiculous wink, he concentrated instead on confirming to them both the reasons why Draco was not irresistable but precisely the opposite. Top among these was, "You still don't know what bleach is."

iIiIiI

"I am absolute brain candy!" Draco exclaimed on Saturday morning throwing the book he was reading from his bed into the bin by his desk. He stood up on his bed and threw his arms up in victory.

From the couch, Harry let out a startled laugh, "_You _are absolutely ridiculous."

Draco jumped off the bed and swaggered into the living room, "Am I, Potter? Am I?"

"Yes."

"I think not," Draco admonished him with a tap on his head. "I have just understood the chemical theory behind the Draught of the Living Dead potion, bestie. Did you know if you tweak it just so you can make it seem as if you are literally dead. Seriously, it will stop your breathing for a period of time and everything, make you go all sallow and disgustingly pale."

"Oh, you mean it will make regular people look like you do every day? And stop calling me bestie," Harry batted away his hand, "And stop messing with my hair."

"I can't help it," Draco said with wide eyes. "It's like a beacon of disaster. You can't help but be pulled to it like a moth to light. I'm afraid that it will kill me, but yet I cannot desist."

"Prat," said Harry looking back down at his book. "I, on the other hand, have absolutely no fucking idea what the hell it is I'm reading."

Draco looked shocked, "Language, Potter. These are innocent ears which you bathe in your stream of obscenity and poverty-ridden bad manners."

"If you don't shut up, that's not all I will do," when Draco waggled his eyebrows, Harry laughed and threw the book at him, "Shut up."

Draco sighed and sat on the couch next to him, "Okay, you blithering fool. What is it that cannot make it through your concrete of a skull?"

"All of it," Harry said looking upset and flustered.

Draco smiled at the way Harry bit his lip in frustration and ran a hand on the back of his neck, twisting it _just so_ making it curve invitingly. The Slytherin tore his eyes away and cleared his throat, "Did you understand any of it?"

"I got the original bit, the one we mostly covered in class," Harry said scooting closer. He turned the pages and indicated a passage turning to catch Draco's eyes on his neck, "What is it? Do I have something on me?"

Draco ran a finger delicately over the length of it, "Got it."

"Thanks," Harry smiled.

Letting out a breath Draco concentrated on the matter at hand. "Alright, you imbecile, let me sow the seeds of knowledge on the indisputably open pastures of your mind. When you transform large things, like a tree or a couch, it helps to have knowledge of the intrinsic properties causing the change. That means that you have to know the chemical bonds that you're breaking, know how it is that your magic is influencing the air around you, adding protons and electrons, even neutrons at times, to change the properties of the existing atoms. Then, there's color and intensity change which causes the wavelength of accepted light hitting the object to be different. Often times, magic even messes with the photons themselves-" Draco paused. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

Harry grinned and shook his head, "Not a damn clue." Draco gave a suffering roll of his eyes and started up again, saying Merlin only knew what. Harry nodded at the appropriate times, repeating a word here and there to show that he was paying attention. Instead, he focused on the way Draco's eyes lit up when he was telling him about something that the blond understood. there was the interesting way that Draco worried his bottom lip when he was explaining something particularly difficult that he hadn't mastered completely himself. Of them all, however, Harry decided that he liked the moment when Draco broke out in a blinding smile when he finally fully understood the subject the best. It did something for him- to him. With a kind smile, Harry realized that Draco was happy. Then, he blushed, because Draco wasn't looking at the book when he laughed. It was Harry his eyes were concentrated on.

iIiIiI

Draco's heart was beating rapidly, so hard against his chest he felt like it was going to break out. It was dark around him, and he could feel the indescribable edges blur around him, his mind letting him know this was a dream. There was something there that was not right; he felt it creeping near him, though he could see nothing when he turned around over and over again trying to detect the reason for his unease. His hands were shaking and his breath was coming erratically, but he had no idea what was wrong. He felt it, though, in the distance, like something dangerous was slithering nearer and nearer with each passing moment. He tried too find an escape, but all he could see was shadowed space. There was no way to get out, and whatever was coming for him was coming closer and closer, and he felt it, he felt it as he heart pounded and pounded inside of him. He couldn't get away, and now his breath was nothing but short little gasps. He was so scared, and his palms were sweaty, and-

"Draco, Draco wake up."

Draco threw the covers off his body and sat up with a gasp. His breathing was coming hard and fast, and his heart was still beating forcefully in his chest. Harry was next to him looking down in concern; he stretched out a hand and let it drop, not sure what to do. Without thinking, Draco grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer, resting his head against Harry's chest while he calmed down. Gently, Harry ran the free fingers of his left hand through Draco's hair, "Are you okay?"

Draco looked up at him through his lashes and shook his head, "Something is wrong."

"What do you mean?" Harry searched his face for a clue.

The Slytherin calmed his breathing and swallowed, "I don't know. It's like a feeling, a bad feeling."

"Draco-"

"No, listen. When I was six-years-old, I woke up crying and I ran into my mother's room telling her that something was the matter. An hour later we got word that my grandfather had passed away. When I was eight, I woke up from a nightmare and I felt it again. My father was attacked by several men from an opposing business and had been taken to St. Mungo's emergency ward. When I was eleven it happened again and my mother miscarried, though she didn't know she was pregnant. And last year," he paused but pushed forward avoiding Harry's eyes, "When my father was in the Ministry of Magic, I felt it when something went wrong."

Harry looked towards the door, "We should go tell the Headmaster."

"No," Draco shook his head. "He's not going to believe me because of just some dream I had. He will dismiss us as soon as he's heard."

"You don't know that, Draco," Harry insisted. "You could be part Seer and this could be some type of warning."

Draco smiled at him and put his hand on Harry's belly, "No everyone is as willing to believe in me as you are, Harry."

Harry gave in and sat down next to him, knowing he would get nowhere, "What do you propose we do, then?"

"Wait."

iIiIiI

"Draco, I know you're worried, but you have to concentrate," Harry urged him towards the end of Potions class.

All day Draco had been distracted, openly glaring back at the Slytherins when they looked at him. It was doing nothing to help their cause, but the blond was scared and instead of protecting himself further he was lashing out. The reality was that Draco suspected that his dream had not been about him at all. Whenever he had been warned, if that's what it was called, it had always been about his family, never about himself. Though he knew better than anyone that the Slytherins were working towards doing something, something big, it didn't really phase him when faced with the reality that he had absolutely no idea about how his mother and father were doing. Dumbledore had told Harry that the last the Order checked in, Narcissa had been fine. She was perhaps a bit thinner than usual but that was to be expected. The only person who knew about his father was Snape, and he had last reported that the man was also doing okay, though he suffered more than usual from the Dark Lord's punishments.

Draco took the news with cold acceptance, but he was determined to speak with Professor Snape directly; those reports were days old. He couldn't explain it, but there was something inside of him that was telling him something was off. It was like a pin prickling the front of his mind, not letting him forget it was there. Draco turned his attention to Harry and nodded, telling him to delay his leave once they were dismissed. At the end of the period, Draco sat back and allowed his classmates to leave, waiting for the door to close after the last of the Ravenclaws walked out. Snape looked at both of them for a long moment and then locked the door, casting a silencing charm around them.

"What is it?" the Potions Master asked.

Draco hesitated but then went ahead, "I was wondering if you had seen my father recently?"

Snape narrowed his eyes and nodded carefully, "I saw him two days prior. Why?"

"And he was in good health?"

"Draco, what is this about?" Professor Snape pushed.

"I- Nothing, sir. Perhaps when you see him again, you could tell me how he is doing," Draco said instead of telling him the truth. He sincerely doubted anyone would believe him.

Harry looked at him with concern, "Draco-"

"Let's go, Harry," Draco grabbed his arm. "I'm hungry."

They left Snape with a dark, puzzled look. Everyone was already in the Great Hall having lunch, and they were free to walk into the nearest hidden passage without trouble. Once the door had closed behind them, Harry turned to the other boy, "Draco, I really don't think you should have done that."

Draco rubbed his eyes and did not look at him, "He wasn't going to believe me, Potter. There is no way that he would. I mean, it sounds crazy even to me."

"I don't think it's crazy."

Draco smiled, "That's because you're insane."

"Maybe we could go get some hot chocolate?" Harry suggested.

Draco nodded, "And birthday cake. I'm in the mood for that too."

They went into the kitchens, and Draco had summoned one of his House Elves, literally asking for birthday cake. The Elf had seemed confused but had gone off, returning relatively quickly with a large chocolate one fully decorated with whip cream icing. Around them, insulted faces had looked at them as the House Elves went about their business, only getting them their hot chocolate out of politeness rather than volition. Harry had apologized and had forced a laughing Draco to do the same, appeasing them and making them go back to normal. With how much they directly depended on them, Harry didn't want the Elves upset with them.

They carried the cake with them to Draco's rooms and walked over to the couch. Harry set the cake down on the coffee table and settle down, picking up a fork and handing one to Malfoy. The blond took it and joined him. He pushed his fork into the soft bread and speared a large glob, bringing it to his mouth. Harry followed suit, and they sat in silence for a while, simply eating cake for lunch.

"Feeling better?" Harry asked.

Draco took a drink of his hot chocolate and swallowed, "Much."

"Draco," Harry said slowly, "I know you don't want to hear this, but we have got to find a way for you to sleep through the night again."

The blond settled back on the couch and laid down, putting his feet on Harry's lap. The Gryffindor smiled at him and only moved his arms higher, cradling the hot chocolate to his lips. Draco contemplated the way the liquid left Harry's lips shiny and licked his own, "It's not easy."

"I know you're worried, and I honestly don't blame you," Harry put one of his hands on Draco's calf. "The problem is that you also have a responsibility to look after yourself. Your parents are grown, and your father is strong. I know that you want to protect them, but you can't do anything. Making yourself sick with lack of sleep isn't going to help anyone."

"You kow, it's funny," said Draco. "I have never really had to worry about anything. Even when my father was in prison, I knew he would get out. Nothing really phased me, because I thought the Malfoy influence and the Malfoy money would get us through it all. Now, though, I- I feel like such a fool. The Dark Lord cares for money only in so far that it funds his actions. He can't be bribed; the only reason why my father is still alive is because beside money, he also offers influence over a large number of important people. When I sit up at night, I wonder how long that's going to last. I know it won't be forever and when his time runs out, what is going to happen to him? And my mother? My mother knows nothing of war; she's been strewn along, because of my father's greed and hunger for power. She loves my father. If he dies-"

"I really don't think you should be thinking about your dad dying," Harry said softly. "You will only drive yourself mad."

"What else can I do? Damn it, Harry, this is all my doing," Draco said feeling like a prat when a few tears stung his eyes.

Harry looked down at his lap and bit his lip, "I am really sorry, Draco."

Sitting up, Draco got closer to him. He took a hand and gently turned Harry's head, "I don't regret saving you. I just wish I could save my parents too."

Harry looked at him with such sadness weighing down his eyes and scooted closer; he placed the cup of chocolate on the ground and turned to the blond. Without hesitating he wrapped his arms around Draco's waist, whispering into his ear, "I wish I could save you from all of this."

"Don't be an idiot," Draco rested his head against Harry's. "You're so dumb, you have to be watered twice a week."

"Thanks, Malfoy."

"No problem."

iIiIiI

"Harry, wake up! Harry," Draco shook him gently.

Harry blinked up sleepily, trying to focus, "What's the matter?"

"I- we have to go outside."

"What?" Harry sat up, catching the concern on Draco's face when the moonlight shone on him. "What do you mean?"

"I had the nightmare again, but it was different this time, more urgent. Just trust me, alright? We have to go outside," Draco insisted looking towards the window by one of the bookcases with worry.

Harry rubbed his face, wiping away the last of his sleep, "Perhaps we should go to the Headmaster."

"That's fine," Draco nodded. "Just give me your Invisibility Cloak, and I will wait for you there."

"No way," Harry dismissed the idea. "Draco, are you sure?"

Draco bit his lip and nodded, "Positive."

"Let me put on some shoes, then."

They hurried out of the door. Harry tried to keep up with Draco's long strides; there was no pause when they reached the door. Draco pushed past it, and Harry barely had time to make sure that they were both covered. Filch was near the Great Hall, and it was with baited breath that Harry waited while he moved away, muttering under his breath. As soon as he was gone, Draco began moving forward with complete disregard for his own safety. It worried Harry to see that stubborn determination on the blond's face. It left no room for argument or common sense. He was being driven to a point somewhere outside in the grounds, and there was nothing that was going to stop him. Once they were outside, it suddenly occurred to Harry that neither of them was wearing warm clothes, protected from the wind only by the thin layer of the Invisibility Cloak. Though it hurt his own skin, it did not seem to phase Draco. Midway down the steps, in the direction of Hagrid's house, Draco grabbed Harry's hand in his own to make them move faster. It appeared that he knew exactly where they were going, and he was doing his best to lead Harry there with him.

They hit the edge of the Dark Forest, but he kept going with only the barest of pauses. It was almost a relief for Harry to see that Draco was still enough in there to know that they were going into dangerous territory. That was all that he needed to know, really. He just wanted to be sure that Draco had not dissociated. As long as he was in control of what they were doing, Harry was more than willing to go along with it. He brought out his wand and gave them light, far enough into the canopy of the trees that the moonlight no longer shone through. They were still hidden beneath the cloak, both unwilling to play it so riskily. The cramped path they were following made it hard for them to walk with the same speed, but they hurried along regardless, the anxiety on Draco's face growing as they continued as if they were running out of time.

"There," Draco said, pointing to a point further along.

Harry narrowed his eyes in the darkness, trying to see whatever it was that Draco was pointing at, "Draco, there's nothing there."

"Wait for it," Draco insisted. "Something is going to happen."

They waited in anticipation, the small clearing beyond them devoid of anything strange. Harry to explore the space, but Draco had not allowed him, putting an arm out to stop him. He told the Gryffindor that they shouldn't go there. Not yet. They should wait for whatever it was that was going to occur. Though he didn't undertand why, Draco knew there was something dangerous about starying further.

"Holy shit," Harry said, his heart beating quickly as a dark figure apparated in the spot Draco was staring at.

"Father!" Draco hurried to the man, slipping past Harry.

Harry hurried after him and yanked him back. Lucius Malfoy was looking at them with pure horror in his eyes. He was clutching his neck, but he uttered, "Draco, go back. Go back."

When his father collapsed to the ground, Draco tore away from Harry's grip and ran towards him, dragging him forwards by his robes. He understood now; they came all of this way, because that was where the apparition wards stopped. There were small cuts all over his fathers hands and neck and from some of the wounds a clear liquid could be seen straying. Harry was going to help him, but Draco grabbed him by the waist and pushed him back, "No, don't touch him." He looked about him in desperation, "We need the Headmaster; I-I don't know what to do. Harry-"

Harry was already pointing his wand at the castle; he sent out his Patronous in a flurry of light. It would fetch Dumbledore and hopefully reach Snape as well. While they waited, Draco cast anxious looks from the castle to his father who was barely breathing. His hands practically ached to touch him, but he had no idea what had been done to him. There could be something on his skin that would be poisonous or- Merlin, he had no idea what.

Before he had time to think of anything else, Dumbledore and Snape could be seen rushing through the woods, making their way down the path with a speed that spoke of their familiarity with it. The Headmaster looked at Lucius and then at Snape, "Severus, can you tell what is on his skin?"

The Potions Master bent down and looked at the man closely, "It's poison, deadly when swallowed. It can eat through the flesh after some time, making the person unrecognizable. Albus, he may still be saved."

"Right," Dumbledore nodded, "Take him to St. Mungo's."

They watched helplessly as Snape dragged Lucius past the wards and apparated away. Draco turned to Dumbledore, "I have to go with them."

"How did you know this would happen?" the Headmaster looked at him sternly with suspicion.

Harry stood in front of Draco, "He saw it in a dream. He didn't plan this. I can vouch for that; I'm almost always with him."

Professor Dumbledore's eyes lost some of their fierceness and he nodded, "Draco, it is too dangerous. You and I must discuss what happened here, but I must first go with Severus. We have to set up Aurors to guard your father. Whoever did this could strike again."

"But-"

Before Draco could finish his thought the Headmaster apparated away, leaving the distraught Slytherin looking on after him. He turned to Harry helplessly and pleaded, "Harry, I have to go with him."

"No, Draco," Harry said grabbing on to him. "It's too dangerous." 

"But he's my father; I can't leave him," Draco struggled, bringing them to the ground as he tried to throw Harry off.

Harry climped on top of him, wrapping his legs around his waist and his arms around his body, preventing Draco's arms from moving. He hang on tight, "Draco, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

"This isn't okay. I'm not okay. Harry, I'm not okay," Draco said and the look in his eyes made Harry's stomach drop.

"Yes, yes you are, Draco. You're with me," Harry said hanging on to the Slytherin as he cried into the side of his neck.

iIiIiI

Oh, my! I like this one. Let me know what you think. I appreciate all of your thoughts. They make this a job worth doing. Thank you so much for reading. REVIEW!

Aly


	15. Chapter 15

"I- I brought you some hot chocolate," Harry offered sheepishly looking at Draco as if awaiting rejection.

It was ten a.m. the morning following Lucius Malfoy's discovery on Hogwarts' grounds. No word had been forthcoming from St. Mungo's about Lucius' well being and it was well past two in the morning that Draco and Harry retired. They had waited outside the Headmaster's office for hours, Draco's anxious face desperately seeking out some sign of Professor Dumbledore's return. Had it not been for Harry, he was sure that Draco would be there still. It was like he was paralyzed, stuck seeing something in his mind over and over which he did not want to share. He was obviously ruminating, blaming himself for everything that had happened until now. Draco had no idea what had occurred to leave his father in such a state and was at a loss as to what it might mean for his mother. Whomever Lucius had confronted had won, and Draco was afraid that the person responsible was looking to destroy his entire family. He didn't believe in coincidences. Something was building; the tension was practically palpable when they walked down the hall. He was convinced that whatever was aimed at him had something to do with what had happened to his father. Worst of all, he didn't know what to do.

He had been so worried, paranoid even, that Harry had climbed into bed with him to stop him from doing something stupid. The nervous glint in Draco's eyes worried the Gryffindor, alarming him that though Draco seemed to be reigned in under control, beneath the cold exterior plans were already being formed to escape Hogwarts and go to his father's side. If it was one thing he could not allow it was precisely that. As soon as Draco left Hogwarts' protective walls no one could fend for him. They had no clue what had gone on with Lucius, but Harry was not willing to take a risk and put Draco's life in more danger than it already was. Instead, feeling like a complete arsehole for keeping him there, Harry laid with Draco so close that he didn't know if he was making the other boy uncomfortable. It was with great relief that Harry felt Draco curl into him doing nothing but holding on to him tightly as if the blond was afraid that he would leave. Some time during the night, their legs had become entwined and Harry had woken up with Draco's head curled by his chest, the Slytherin's arm thrown over his own waist. He had reluctantly left the warmth and padded to the kitchens, doing the only thing he knew to make his friend feel better.

Draco sat up and took the hot chocolate politely. He stared down at it for a long time and eventually opened his mouth, his voice cracking as he asked, "Harry, he's going to be okay, right?"

"Draco-"

"Because I know he looked like he was dying, and I know he's probably dead, but it makes no sense. It makes no sense to me that my father would die," he looked up and his eyes were full of tears. "I- I know that you don't know him, that you think he's a bastard, and he is in a lot of ways, but he's my father. Did you know one time when my mother went away on a trip, he stayed up with me and entire night while I was sick? He didn't command the House Elves to take care of me, and he didn't immediately take to St. Mungo's. We sat up all night, and he was so kind, Harry. I just- I just don't know what I will do-"

"He's going to be okay," Harry said in a hurry. He took the cup carefully from Draco's hands and placed it on the nightstand before climbing into the bed beside Draco, "Professor Snape is the best in the world. If he says it was poison, then I can bet you he will find an antidote. He will be fine."

"Then why doesn't it feel like it?" and Draco's eyes were so lost and his voice so vulnerable that Harry couldn't take it.

"Come here," he said, making Draco turned into him as they hugged. Draco's weight sagged onto him as if he had been waiting for an excuse to cry. He was completely silent as he looked into Harry's hair, thankful that it was familiar, and real, and there. Were it not for a sniff once and again, Harry would not have even known he was breathing.

"I'm scared," Draco breathed out his secret. "I'm so scared all of the time, but I don't care what happens to me anymore. I just- I just want my family to be safe. I want my mother to be at a ball wearing lavish jewelry and pretending that she likes the people that she's talking to. I want my father to go in to work and forget that any of this ever happened. I want to leave here and go to my estate where you and I would just laugh and eat chocolate. I don't want this anymore. I can't-I just-"

Harry pulled him tighter, feeling as if something was twisting his insides, "We will, Draco. I promise. We will go there and just blow days and days and there will be no one else but us. I will make it better."

Draco pulled back and gave him an impossible look. He ran his hand gently over the curve of Harry's neck and gave him the softest of smiles, a tear trailing down his face, "You would, wouldn't you, Potter? You would be the only one stupid enough and stubborn enough to find a way to make me happy."

iIiIiI

"Do you feel a little better?" Harry asked a couple of hours later as Draco came out of the shower.

His hand was holding a towel wrapped around his waist and letting it fall, Draco turned to look at his wardrobe and nodded, "Yes. I think sleeping really helped me get my head in gear."

Harry watched with wide eyes as the muscles on Draco's back flexed when his hand reached up for a shirt and a pair of trousers. He bent down towards a drawer to get some boxers and his muscled thighs bent in a way that drew his eyes to curve of Draco's arse. Even from a distance, Harry could trace the shadow of a hipbone that curved around Draco's body on to his six pack. Once his boxers were on, Draco looked at him and his eyes went dark. Harry was staring intently at his chest trailing downwards until they reached the hem of his boxers. When they got there, Harry bit his lip and seeing Draco watching him, he blushed a deep crimson. As he pulled on his trousers and held off on throwing on his shirt, Draco couldn't help but think that Harry sure had a hell of a way to make him feel better.

"Do you find something interesting, Harry?" Draco asked looking on intently, his gaze not wavering.

Harry swallowed, "I don't know what you mean."

Draco looked at him for a long moment than smiled, "It's okay. I find you pretty interesting too."

Harry looked puzzled, and he opened his mouth to ask what he meant when a knock came to the door. Pushing his arms through the shirtsleeves, Draco hurried over and threw the door open, both ridiculously glad and ridiculously apprehensive that the Headmaster was standing there. Draco invited him inside and tried to keep his nerves in check. Professor Dumbledore sat down on the armchair across from Harry and asked Draco to join them. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept in a very long time, and his eyes were heavy when he looked at them.

"First thing is first; Draco, we got your father to St. Mungo's as fast as we could. The Healers took him to Intensive Care and Severus conferred with them. He was right. It was poison, and they had the antidote at hand. However," Dumbledore's eyes sought out Draco's, "it can only fully work minutes after an individual has been infected."

"So, my father is dead," Draco's face was stony.

The Headmaster gave him a sad smile, "No, not dead. There was another option, the only option we think will give your father a chance to survive this. The Healers have put him in a magical coma and have stabilized his vitals. In so doing, they have slowed down the body's processes, including blood flow. Severus explained that the way the potion works is that it uses the organs' activities to spread and eat its way from the inside out. By putting your father in a coma, the healers hope that it will slow it down giving the antidote time to defeat it."

"When will we know?" Draco asked though his throat suddenly felt dry.

Dumbledore paused, "That is uncertain."

Draco did a long blink trying to get himself together, "Alright, what about my mother?"

"We believe it is no longer safe for her to remain on your family's estate. However, my informants tell me that Malfoy Manor has been buzzing with activity the last couple of days. Death Eaters have been in and out of the home for days. We are waiting only until such a time that it is safe for us to get her. It will do no one any good for us to risk everything, including her life, if it is for naught," said the Headmaster.

"Professor," Harry interjected. "What precisely do you mean, increased activity? Is Voldemort-"

"Yes," the older man nodded. "I think something is going to happen soon. What it is, however, no one seems to know. The Dark Lord has let no one know of his plans, including his inner circle. Severus has been unable to find out any information."

"Sir, do we know who is responsible for my father's attack?"

"Unfortunately, no. No one seems to know how it happened," said Dumbledore. "No one has been admitted to St. Mungo's with wounds such as your father's. I'm afraid it is, for now, a mystery." The Headmaster took a moment to decide whether now was an appropriate time but went on, "Draco, I know this is the last you want to hear, but I have to know how it is that you knew to expect your father's arrival."

"I-"

"Headmaster, if it's okay, maybe I can tell you about it," Harry cut in. He looked at Draco and gave him a small smile, "I think Draco should go eat and rest for when he is finally able to go to St. Mungo's to see his dad. When will that be by the way?"

"As soon as we are sure that it is safe. We have Aurors guarding Lucius, but we don't know if anyone is going to attempt anything more. Tomorrow by the latest we should have everything set up for you to visit him," the Headmaster told them.

"Thank you."

"You have nothing to be thankful for, Draco. We are all just trying to make this as easier to bear as we possibly can," said Dumbledore.

Harry stood up and addressed Draco, "I'm going to go with the Headmaster into his office. You should try to sleep."

"Alright. Just promise you won't think too hard; I don't want your brain to explode."

iIiIiI

Harry and the Headmaster walked to his office, discussing in hushed tones what had happened. It was up to him to describe everything in detail and he tried his best to tell Professor Dumbledore why Draco had been unwilling to go to him after the dreams had begun. It wasn't difficult for the older man to understand Draco's ideas, though he didn't like it. The Slytherin didn't trust Dumbledore and so believed that the Headmaster did not trust in him. Of course he would have thought that his words would have fallen on deaf ears; the boy was only human after all. Professor Dumbledore reassured Harry that he understood and that he didn't doubt the truth of the Gryffindor's words. It was sad that his own student did not feel as if he could confide in him, but he had expected nothing else from a young man raised to distrust him, especially in a circumstance such as this. If there was anything to be thankful for it was that Harry was there to defend Draco, to show him kindness and friendship. It was obvious from the way he spoke about the Slytherin that Harry had grown very fond of him over the time they had spent together.

"I mean, he's an idiot and everything, Professor, but he wouldn't have done anything to put his dad in danger," Harry was saying.

"I know, I know. It would have just been a better course of action for you two to have informed me. That way we could have looked into Draco's dreams, gotten a full Seer to confer with us. From what you have said, it doesn't appear like Draco himself is one. It is more like he has traces of the power. Perhaps if we knew his family tree we could trace back a Seer in his ancestry. Now, Harry, I need to ask you a question carrying great import. Do you think that Mr. Malfoy is emotionally prepared to see his father? I don't want to cause him any more distress-"

"Professor, no offense, but I would like to see anyone stop him from seeing his dad. It's just not possible. If you are asking for my opinion then I have to tell you that there would be nothing worse than keeping Draco away from his family. He's so worried about them that he got maybe three hours of sleep last night. It goes without saying, however, that there has to be an impenetrable defense between him and anyone that might wish his family harm," Harry said seriously.

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, there is no question- Harry, what's wrong?"

"The necklace," Harry said urgently clutching at his neck. "Something's wrong."

Harry felt the pull at the bottom of his belly and was gone. When he reappeared, he searched urgently around him with wide, scared eyes. The necklace had deposited him in the Kitchens; the House Elves around him were staring with wide eyes all saying things to him at the same time in a jumble of voices that he couldn't understand. One grabbed his hand and took him to the floor by a table in the corner next to the fireplace. He parted through the House Elves on his way and crashed to his knees. Draco was laying down, his face paler than Harry had ever seen. His forehead was covered in sweat and one of his shaking hands was clutched to his chest. Next to him, a broken plate littered the floor with food.

Harry grabbed on to Draco's hand and the blond smiled up at him through the obvious pain, "What took you so long, you knuckle-dragging neanderthal?"

"Draco, what happened?" Harry asked in a panicked voice.

"I don't know," Draco ran his finger down Harry's cheek and tried to breath in.

Harry held on to the blond and willed the necklace to work faster. A second later he felt the pull at his belly return and thanked God as they disappeared. They landed heavily on the floor of the infirmary where Madame Pomfrey rushed to them, the stone in her hand discarded as she took Draco's vitals on the floor. Dumbledore crashed the double doors open with his wand, hurrying to them. Little lacerations were beginning to appear around Draco's throat and seeing them, the Headmaster ordered the Nurse to open the floo network. He bent and picked up the Slytherin asking Harry to follow him. All three stepped through and dematerialized as Professor Dumbledore rang out, "St. Mungo's," in a commanding voice.

iIiIiI

Harry was sitting on a chair outside Draco's room, bouncing his knee nervously as he looked at the clock on the wall for the millionth time since they had gotten there. They had been received almost immediately after the flurry that seeing Dumbledore and Harry Potter in the hall of a hospital died down. At one point, Harry had yelled at people to get out of the way who had stood like bloody idiots trying to figure out who Dumbledore was holding. The Headmaster's face had been stony as he demanded a Mediwizard rush Draco to Intensive Care. It had been the most painfully mind-wrecking moments Harry had ever experienced. Everyone seemed to be moving too slowly, and he had to stop himself from yelling at them to move faster. Once the Healers had finally taken Draco, one of them had sense enough to go to the fetch Professor Snape who was still conferring with Healers about Lucius. It had taken a couple of minutes, but they had finally returned and pushed past him to get into the room.

He had no idea what the hell was going on in there. All he knew was that Healers and nurses kept rushing in and out of the door holding vials and tools he had never seen before. He was aware that some people were looking on at him, keeping their distance as they tried to figure out if it was really Harry Potter. The hall in which they were seemed awfully busy as people cruised by trying to get a peek at his scar. It was one of the most frustrating things he had ever had to go through. He had been left completely alone outside the room, because after Dumbledore had seen that Draco was being taken care of, he had hurried from St. Mungo's back to Hogwarts. He needed to get to the castle to question the House Elves. The Healers had immediately recognized the same poison had been used on Draco as on his father. The Headmaster was hoping that whoever was responsible had left enough evidence behind to discover where it had come from. If he was still in the castle, Dumbledore had to be there to protect the other children. He had no idea how widespread it had been and that, above all else, scared him.

Harry's heart was pounding against his sternum a mile a minute and his hands were shaking. His stomach felt like he had swallowed lead, and he couldn't seem to hold still. The idea that Draco could die because of this was unthinkable. He didn't know what he would do if he had to go a day without seeing the blond's eyes light up with intelligence, if he never got to hear another insult come out of his smiling lips. It was strange to think about waking up without seeing blond hair and blue eyes. It made something inside him ache.

"Professor, how is he?" Harry pushed off his chair seeing Snape come out of Draco's room.

The Slytherin Head of House looked exhausted and large bags decorated the bruised space beneath his eyes, "Draco will live."

"Oh, thank God," Harry swallowed hard.

"Potter, how did that poison get into his system?" Snape asked sitting down on Harry's vacated chair.

Harry shook his head, "I have no clue. I left Draco in his rooms to rest, because I knew he didn't want to discuss what had happened with his father with the Headmaster. We were walking to Professor Dumbledore's office when I felt the necklace start to burn. It landed me in the Kitchens. When I found him, he was on the floor. I got him, ended up in the infirmary, and Professor Dumbledore brought us here."

"In the Kitchens?"

"Yes, why?" asked Harry.

"The poison must have been swallowed. It must have gotten in his food," Snape said.

Harry scrunched his brows, "But that's impossible. The House Elves are the only ones allowed to be in the Kitchens. There's no way that they would allow anyone to slip anything into Draco's food. Besides, they must have served his plate when he walked in. They couldn't have been expecting him. Draco would have never allowed anything to be put in his food. He's too observant and paranoid for that."

Snape nodded, "It doesn't follow logic, but there is no other explanation of which I can think. Between Draco and the Kitchens is only the passage that Professor McGonagall and I have built. We devoted ourselves to making sure that no one aside from a select few would be allowed inside. No one could have attacked him; there's no sign of physical struggle. Whatever happened must have occurred inside the kitchens. There is no other explanation."

"However it happened, I'm just glad he's okay. Is the venom out of his system?" asked Harry.

"Yes," nodded Snape. "We were able to administer the antidote quickly enough thanks to how rapidly he was brought in. He will hurt for a while, and the Healers want to keep him for a time to monitor his vitals and make sure that the poison didn't eat through any part of his organs. After a while, he will be fine. I have no doubt; I created the antidote myself."

Harry nodded though even he didn't know if he was acknowledging the Professor's words or thanking him. After a second he groaned, "Bloody fantastic."

"What?" asked Snape.

"Draco is going to be a bloody joy when he wakes up," Harry said sarcastically but his heart jumped when he thought about talking with the blond again.

iIiIiI

It was well into the night that Harry contemplated the many similarities between Muggle hospitals and wizarding ones. After having sat outside the room for hours, Harry had finally conned one of the young nurses into letting him into Draco's room. He felt slightly ashamed about having used his name to get inside, but the discomfort faded significantly when he had seen Draco hooked up to beeping machines. He had been listening to those machines beep on for what seemed forever. He had only gone to a real hospital twice before, once when his cousin broke his arm and another when his uncle almost had a heart attack. He had been hooked up to machines very similar to the ones which were attached to Draco. It wasn't until now that he understood the worry written across his aunt Petunia's face as she gazed at her husband. He was having a hard time swallowing past his heart, which had decided to lodge itself in his throat.

Draco looked so bloody small on that bed. His skin was only a shade darker than the cream sheets he laid against. It was more than a fair bit unsettling to see clearly the bruising under his eyes and the thin, red marks that were laced across his throat where the poison had gone down. He finally understood why poison had been used; Snape had explained to him earlier that it was the safest way to kill someone. A spell could be traced to the caster's wand, but practically anyone could buy a potion without much thought. Even if it were poisonous, Potions Masters were rare enough that with enough Galleons any one of them could conveniently forget that they had brewed any such thing, and that was _if_ a Potions Master was used. Anyone could brew a potion with enough care and anyone with underground connections could get ingredients from the black market. It was simple enough, so simple and dangerous that it had caused Draco to look like this.

Harry had been alert for any movement from the Slytherin, even imagining as time went on that he saw Draco's eyelashes flutter only to have him sigh and continue sleeping. He knew that it was best this way, that he wasn't feeling any pain as long as he was unconscious, but he couldn't help but want Draco to open his eyes. He wanted to make sure that he was really okay. It was an utter relief, then, to finally see rustling coming from the bed. Harry hurried to its side and looked down anxiously as Draco blinked a couple of times, disoriented, focusing on Harry.

"Harry, where am I?"

"You stupid idiot. Can't even remember you were almost killed," Harry said with a frown, trailing a hand over Draco's neck.

Draco's hand came up to hold on to Harry's and he smirked, "Lovely way to wake up, in pain and to someone who doesn't hesitate to speak his mind because he has nothing to lose."

"Careful, Draco. Don't let your brains go to your head," Harry bent close and examined the tired way his eyes kept shutting as if he was forcing himself to stay awake. "Go to sleep."

Draco shook his head but his eyes were already closed, "I'll not take orders from someone who puts the fear in me that there is someone who hates me as much as I loathe you."

Harry shook his head and ran his fingers through Draco's hair, "Charming as ever."

iIiIiI

"Potter, you look lost in thought. Is it unfamiliar territory?" Draco called out an hour later having once again woken up.

Harry turned his eyes to the Slytherin from the ground. He had been contemplating all that had happened in the last four months, not understanding how things had been thrown upside down in such a short span of time. He stood up and walked to Draco's bed, "How are you feeling?"

Draco took a second took a second to think about it, "Like Karma paid me in return for every time I killed you in my thoughts."

"Nah," Harry grinned. "Only the ones you wrote down on your journal for Trelawney." Harry's lips fell and his eyes misted over, "I'm glad you're okay."

Draco shifted on the bed and winced as he pulled back the covers. He patted the space next to him and beckoned Harry forward, watching him carefully as he climbed in next to him. Once the covers were settled over them, Draco scooted closer and touched his forehead to Harry's gently, "I'm glad I'm okay too."

"You know," Harry said running his fingers over Draco's palm and linking their fingers together, "The only reason I think you're _interesting _is because your face reminds me of a donkey's arse."

"Shh, Potter," Draco said trailing his lips softly over the curve of Harry's nose, touching them to Harry's ever so barely as he spoke, "We don't want to scare your hair. I think it's starting to like me."

Harry took in a shuddering breath and pushed his lips fully onto Draco's, revelling in the softness he found beyond their dryness. He looked up at Draco through his lashes, a stray, traitorous tear betraying him, "I'm _so _glad you're okay."

"I wouldn't miss this for the world."

"Maybe next time that you're trying to come on to me, you will desist from almost dying," Harry suggested gently covering Draco's heart with his free hand.

"I don't know; I quite like the drama," Draco muttered against Harry's lips. "It's nice to hear your hair hiss for me rather than _at_ me."

"All I'm saying is that if you do this again, I might have to kill you myself," Harry took Draco's bottom lip in between his own.

Draco smiled into the kiss, "It's a good thing I don't like you because of your brains."

iIiIiI

"Move aside; I will not have you standing between my son and me," Narcissa Malfoy hissed through her teeth at the Auror in front of Draco's door.

From down the hall, Harry frowned at the full cup of hot chocolate in his hands, trying not to pill it as he hurried towards Draco's room. By the time he got there, Mrs. Malfoy's face was red and her glare was so icy that Harry was half afraid the poor bloke guarding the door would freeze. Stepping forward he said, "It's alright. I can vouch for her. You can move."

"Mr. Potter, Dumbledore said nothing about-"

"If you don't move, I will personally make up a spell that will-"

"I think what Mrs. Malfoy is trying to say, sir, is that she and _I _would really appreciate it if you stepped aside so that she could see her son. I'm sure you can understand her frustration," Harry said shifting the hot cup onto his left hand.

"But-"

"Sir, no offense, but even I know not to stand between an angry woman and her goal. Certain parts of your anatomy might go missing. If she's here it is because Professor Dumbledore brought her here. Why don't you just save us all the headache and step aside?" Harry cajoled.

"That is precisely what I have been telling him. The Headmaster had to go with the Healers when we arrived who wanted to show him something. Now, _move_," the tone of her voice gave no room for argument. Casting Harry a cautious look, the Auror stepped aside only wincing slightly when the shorter woman shoved past him. When Narcissa saw her sleeping son, her breath caught, "Draco."

"He looks worse than he really is," Harry said gently, laying down the cup by Draco's bed. He bent down and shook the blond slightly not halting though Narcissa moved to stop him, "He will never forgive me if I don't wake him for this."

Draco turned his face into Harry's hand and smiled sleepily up at him, "Hi."

"Hi," Harry whispered intimately. "There's someone here to see you."

"Who-" Draco sat up slowly then flew out of bed when he saw his mother.

It was obvious that the quick movement hurt him, but it did nothing to detain him. He crashed into his mother's arms and kissed her cheek, crushing her and laying his head on top of hers. Narcissa was crying, running her hands over his arms as if to make sure that it was really him. Draco paused and looked at her intently, asking her why she had a bruised cheek. She shook it off and instead turned the conversation to his health, to what had been happening since they had last seen each other, and asked if he knew anything about his father's state. She had come to see him directly, anxious to see her son, and had not yet gone to ask about her husband's well being, though Dumbledore had assured her he was stable. They talked in low murmurs, and Harry was about to step out of the room to give them their privacy when Draco grabbed on to his wrist and pulled him forward, slipping his fingers through Harry's.

"Mother," Draco said proudly, "this is Harry Potter."

Narcissa looked from her son to Harry and asked, "Draco, pouvons-nous lui faire confiance? Est-il de notre côté ?"

Draco turned to Harry and smiled at him gently and then looked at his mother, "Oui. Je crois que je l'aime."

iIiIiI

Oh my gosh! I wrote it, and I'm freaking out. I can't believe it finally happened! PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE TRANSLATE THE LAST FEW LINES. I PROMISE IT'S WORTH IT. I JUST WANT TO LET YOU DISCOVER WHAT IT SAYS ON YOUR OWN. Tell me what you think, please. I'm expecting this to be the most REVIEWED chapter up to date; I want to hear everything you have to say. AHHHHHHHHHH! REVIEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWW!

Aly


	16. Chapter 16

"You know, for being a git, you really have beautiful eyes," Harry breathed out softly into the silence.

"Mmm, your unfailing Gryffindor sentimentality is astounding," Draco said moving closer to the warmth of Harry's body on the small hospital bed.

They had been in St. Mungo's for three days, and Draco was still feeling weak. The Healers expressed no surprise, telling them that it would be normal for the blond to experience exhaustion for some weeks to come. Professor Dumbledore had insisted that Draco stay in the hospital until such a time that they had absolutely no doubt that he was one hundred percent okay. Though no one said it aloud, it was obvious that the Headmaster was giving the Malfoys time to be together in order to decide what they wanted to do. Hogwarts had been breached and no one knew how. After Dumbledore had left them on the first day, he had rushed to the castle only to find it devoid of anything suspicious, aside from the spilled food on the floor. Dobby had enough sense to prevent any of the other House Elves from cleaning the mess, knowing that the Headmaster would want to look at the food himself. The Headmaster had questioned the entire staff, but no one came forward to admit having served Draco food. It was finally proposed by some of them that it could have been one of Draco's own House Elves who had taken to coming to the castle since they knew their master often needed assistance in the Kitchens.

Without the House Elf already present, Dumbledore could do nothing else but take the food to St. Mungo's where it was studied. The results showed that the food had in fact been tampered with containing enough poison to kill five men four times over. It had unsettled the entire Hogwarts staff, but without any proof that a student had somehow been involved, they could do nothing. They had contemplated that perhaps one of the Slytherins had gone into the Kitchens and introduced poison into the food, but that hypothesis had been nullified when they discovered the rest of the meals were perfectly clean. More surprisingly, the Healers had determined that the food on Draco's plate was hours old at the time he had consumed it. It was incongurous to anything they had imagined, because the House Elves had been instructed to donate every meal's residues to kitchens for homeless wizards and witches. The fact that the food on Draco's plate had come from lunchtime made no sense to anyone, including the House Elves who had carried out their instructions as on any ordinary day.

The Headmaster had questioned Draco, but the blond could only remember a plate of food being put in front of him along with his drink. He had been distracted after having left the Headmaster and Harry and had not paid much mind to something so regular as being served. He had been thirsty and was not going to eat but had decided that because a plate had already been prepared, it couldn't hurt him to eat something since he had eaten nothing since the night they had found his father. All he remembered afterwards was feeling as if his throat was burning as his food went down and then seeing Harry kneeling over him looking very scared. No one knew what to make of it and without any idea as to who was responsible, the Hogwarts professors were on high alert. Even without Draco there, they still toured the hallways in between classes monitoring the students, especially the Slytherins, to make sure nothing went wrong. Harry had been forced to return to classes the previous day, a Friday, and had related to Draco and the Headmaster how the Slytherins' eyes followed him down the hall. They seemed confused and he was sure that at least some of them knew something, because the expectant look in their eyes betrayed their anxiety. No one seemed to know where Draco was and no one knew if their goal had been achieved.

"I don't see you complaining," Harry whispered back with a small smile combing his fingers through the soft tresses of Draco's hair.

Draco looked up sleepily at him, lulled by the rhythmic pattern of movement Harry kept going against his head, "I'm a Slytherin, Potter. That means that, unlike you, I have enough sense to do what benefits me. So, I will not complain about your looks to keep you massaging my scalp."

"Slimy Slytherin," Harry tugged on the front of his shirt with a grin.

Draco tugged at Harry's own hair and winced, "Ow, I think it bit me. It's what I get for being a caring boyfriend."

"Is that what you are then?" Harry nuzzled Draco's neck and laid a kiss against his pulse point, "Are you my boyfriend?"

Draco shook his head and gave a soft sigh, "No, I'm just the incredibly good looking bloke you have the privilege of kissing."

Harry pulled back and looked into his eyes, "Well, that will not do. I quite like the ring boyfriend had. Maybe we should keep it, eh? What do you say?"

"Mr. Potter, are you trying to ask me something?" Draco smiled.

Harry looked sideways, "I have no idea of what you refer to, you slack-jawed Pureblood."

"Harry if that was your attempt at being coy, consider it a gigantic fail," Draco laughed. "I guess that boyfriend will do as long as you're my girlfriend."

Harry looked at him for a moment and pressed his lips against Draco's for a long, languid kiss, "I'm not a girl."

Draco's eyes darkened and he licked his bottom lip, "No, you're not."

iIiIiI

"What's the matter?" Draco asked Harry two days later, slipping on his cloak.

Harry was staring out of the room's window anxiously as if on the lookout for something unpleasant. He turned to look at Draco and gave a nervous smile, "Nothing."

"Potter, I will outsmart you now as any other time. Come on," Draco prompted. "What is going on?"

"Nothing," Harry reassured him. "I was just wondering when your mother was going to join us."

Draco grinned, "Is that a note of nervousness I detect in your voice?"

"What? No."

Draco looked at him incredulously and let out a chuckle, "You can face a Basilisk, come out victorious in the Triwizard's Challenge, and go head to head with the Dark Lord, but you're scared of my mother?"

"Hey, that's not fair. I was plenty nervous all of those times too, but I had no choice but keep going. I could very well walk out on you, you yuppy camel, so shut up. By the way, I'm not _scared_; I'm simply being...cautious and respectful of your privacy with your family. You would think you would look on with more kindness seeing that I'm trying to save you too from another awkward meeting," Harry said looking away.

Draco's mother had been nothing but gracious to everyone, excepting the Auror outside Draco's door, since she had gotten there. However, when she, Draco, and Harry had been left alone, Harry had felt the uncomfortable heat of her gaze on him. It was as if she was trying to figure out why he was there, as if she was trying to make sense of how much things had changed between him and her son while she had been held hostage in her own home. It was obvious from the way that Draco spoke about him and interacted with the Gryffindor that her son cared very much for him. Harry Potter could be read like an open book, and his eyes lit up whenever he was speaking to Draco. Yet, as great as it all seemed, Narcissa could not help but be apprehensive about their situation. She didn't care that her son was involved with another male; what bothered her was that she didn't know if she could feel safe with him. It was one thing to trust him with her son's heart, but it was another completely to look on without care when one word from the boy could leave them destitute.

Her son had admonished her cautionary glances with a firm frown but had said nothing to her directly. If Narcissa were to be honest, she didn't remember seeing her son look so happy in a very long time. Even though he was still recuperating from the attack done on him, he looked strong as if he was not phased by what had happened. Harry looked more worried about him that Draco was about himself. Narcissa had allowed herself to smile when she had seen the way Harry fussed over her son, coming and going with cups of hot chocolate whenever Draco mentioned he wanted some. It was endearing to watch the way Potter tried to trail his fingers over Draco's hand when he thought Narcissa did not notice. The way in which Draco smiled at the boy in response put her somewhat at rest; her son was not stupid. He knew what he was getting himself into, and whether or not she was completely comfortable with his decision, he was going to go forward with it. He was as stubborn as his father, and there was nothing she could do about. There was also, of course, the fact that they made a lovely looking couple.

"If I were to tell you she has said nothing bad about you, would you believe me?" Draco asked bringing Harry out of thought.

"Yes, but only because all you Purebloods are the same. You don't say what you mean. Honestly, look at you. Anyone seeing your face would think you are a nice, gentle young man when in reality you're a devious little bastard," Harry said backing away as Draco approached him.

"It's a trick worth learning," Draco said but then winced.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Harry stepped forward his eyes going wide.

Draco grinned and pressed a kiss to Harry's lips, wrapping his arms around the shorter boy's waist, "See. Treachery is underrated."

"I don't think I quite mind it as much when it's like this," Harry rested his hands on Draco's arms.

"Stupid Gryffindor. Only someone with your brain size would smile like that," said Draco.

"Like what?" Harry asked trying to frown and failing miserably.

"Like you are incandescently happy."

iIiIiI

"Has there been any change, mother?" Draco asked his mother, laying a hand on her shoulder when he came to Narcissa's side.

Harry and Draco had waited for his mother in his room while they packed up his clothing. The Healers had deemed it safe for him to leave the hospital, and they were all going to confer with the Headmaster to discuss the best alternative for both Draco and his mother. No one knew anything about his well being and no one was certain if they should keep it that way. His mother had been in his father's room all morning, going back and forth between the two of them, though she looked exhausted. She had only left for thirty minutes to go to Draco's home to shower and rest once each day since she had gotten there. It was a good thing that she had a wardrobe full of her clothing there, since they had not been able to get her things when she had been rescued.

As she had explained to Draco, it had all been Professor Dumbledore's doing. He had conferred with the Order and everyone had agreed that although the Malfoys were loose cannons at best, there was no way that they could allow Narcissa to suffer alone while her husband was in danger of dying and her son was in St. Mungo's being treated for poisoning. Mrs. Weasley had been adamant that they do their best to get Narcissa to her son; as a mother, she could only think of the nightmare the woman was going through being away from the two people in her life she loved the most. The Order had to wait until such a time that they could mount an attack that would not get everyone killed and had finally entered Malfoy Manor hours after Draco had been admitted into St. Mungo's. They had battled with some Death Eaters, though a far lesser number than had been in the house as of late. Severus had alerted them a meeting was being held with the Dark Lord, giving them the window of opportunity they needed to get Draco's mother.

Narcissa had been hurt when she had cast a spell against one of her oppressors. The man had physically hit her on the side of the head causing a bruise to form there. Regardless, they had made their way out and the worst of the damage was suffered by the furniture and a burn on Tonk's arm which was healed back in Grimmauld Place. Narcissa's own cheek had been taken care of while in the hospital, and all she had to worry about was the health of her son and her husband.

Resting her hand over her Draco's, Narcissa turned her head to look up at him, "No. The Healers say that he is getting better, but I see nothing different about him."

"It will be fine," Draco reassured her scooting closer to look at his father's pale face. "He's by far too proud to die like this."

Lucius was hooked up to machines very similar to the ones formerly attached to Draco. There was a particularly large one which seemed to be injecting blood through his arm while another part of it took out blood and ran it through a thing that looked like a spinning wheel. It appeared as if the Mediwizards were pulling out the venom which could be seen pooling into a separate bag on the machine. As uncomfortable as it was for Draco to see his father looking so frail, it was by far preferable to having to hear the news that he was dead.

Narcissa smiled, "He won't appreciate you having said that."

"No, he won't," Draco agreed.

Looking outside the room's window, Narcissa turned to her son, "Draco, where is your- ah, where's Mr. Potter?"

Draco grinned, "He went to go get the Headmaster. Mother, it would help if you didn't intimidate him so much."

"I have no idea what you could possibly mean," she answered not meeting his eyes.

Draco licked his lips, "I really like him, mother. I meant what I said. That means that I hope he remains in my life far after this is over. The way you look at him makes him uncomfortable. I know that this isn't what you would have chosen for me, but this is what I have, and I want to keep it."

Narcissa sighed, "Draco, I simply- I worry. I don't know what to think about him. He seems honest in his emotions for you, but if something were to go wrong, we could be-"

"Mother, trust me. You will never find anyone more honest and noble than he is, although if you tell him I said so, I will deny it. He's kind of amazing. Please, for me, just try to get to know him."

"And you're sure?" Narcissa asked.

Draco looked at the door expectantly when it clicked open, allowing Harry through, "Positive."

"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy," Harry greeted her stepping forward into the room with Dumbledore.

Narcissa looked from her son to him and smiled, "Hello, Harry."

"Yes, hello _Harry,_" Draco grinned.

Harry frowned at him, "Shut up."

Ignoring them, Narcissa turned to the Headmaster, "Good evening."

"Good evening, Mrs. Malfoy. I believe it is time for us to discuss your next move," Dumbledore said glancing from Harry and Draco to her with bright eyes.

iIiIiI

"What do you think we should do?" Narcissa asked a few minutes later sitting down in a small office the hospital had allowed them to borrow.

Professor inhaled a deep breath and joined her at the round table in the middle of the room, "I have come to offer you several choices. I think it best for you to decide as unbiased parties. If you would like to hear what I have to say afterwards, I would be more than happy to share my thoughts."

Draco nodded, "Alright, what options are open to us?"

"You and your mother could both retire to the Order's headquarters where, once under oath, we can offer the both you protection from the Dark Lord's forces. It would be considered political asylum and you would forfeit any involvement with the Dark," Dumbledore said to the attentive Malfoys who knew how generous that deal was. "You could also choose to return to Hogwarts, Mr. Malfoy, while your mother takes abode in Grimmauld Place. Of course, thirdly, you could both choose to stay in your estate."

Narcissa looked on seriously, contemplating the Headmaster's words, "What do _you _think is best?"

"I personally believe that we can offer you no better protection than the Order's headquarters," said Dumbledore. "No one who wants to harm you could reach it, and I cannot fully guarantee your safety in Draco's home. With the increased number of attacks, I could not ask any of the members of the Order to stay with you. Everyone is simply too busy."

"And Draco?" asked Harry.

The Headmaster looked at the Slytherin, "I cannot choose for you, but I would not suggest you remain in Hogwarts."

Draco nodded, "I agree. It's too dangerous. Yet, are we simply going to allow everyone to think I'm dead?"

"If I may say something," Harry interrupted. "I think that under the circumstances we should do precisely that. Neither Ron nor Hermione will breath a word of you having been here. You know I won't say anything either. If we made sure that the Healers were under oath and did not speak about you to anyone, I don't see a reason for you to be in danger any longer."

"If you choose to go into hiding, Draco, I will make sure that the documents of your stay here are burned. No one will know anything about what happened to you, and no one will know about your father's whereabouts. We will go as far as making sure that you and your mother are put under glamour when you come and visit him. With your permission, Mrs. Malfoy, we would also like to change Lucius' features. We want to take all the precautions we possibly can," Dumbledore said.

"Mother?" Draco looked to his mother searching her face for an answer suitable to her, wanting to please her.

Narcissa contemplated the proposition for a few moments and then nodded, "Yes, thank you. Draco and I will stay at- Grimmauld Place, is it? That will be- fantastic. I ask only for a week at our estate to question our House Elves and to give Draco time to recuperate completely."

"That will be fine," Dumbledore nodded.

Draco stood up and reached out his hand to shake the Headmaster's, "Thank you, Professor."

"It is my pleasure, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore responded a glint of pride in his eyes.

iIiIiI

"Headmaster, may I have a word with you?" Harry asked Dumbledore a few minutes later as Draco and Narcissa left to see Lucius one last time before their departure.

"How may I help you?"

Harry looked down, ashamed that he had to do this, but unwilling to stop, "Sir, I have asked nothing of anyone all this time, while so much has been asked of me. I have faced things that you and I can both agree were not meant to be faced by someone my age. I have done what you wished without question and followed you all over the continent looking for Horcruxes. I- I think that I deserve a favor, Sir. Just one."

Dumbledore looked puzzled, "Whatever can I do for you, my boy?"

"I would like permission to visit Draco while he is away from school," Harry said in a rush, blushing.

The Headmaster did a long blink. Of course that wouldn't be a problem; in fact, he thought it fantastic that Harry and Draco had become so close. Draco needed someone with that loyalty by his side. Yet, it was almost amusing to see the determined set of Harry's mouth as if no was not an acceptable answer. It was almost as if- Oh. Dumbledore smiled, "Yes, of course, Harry."

"Good, because- wait, really?"

"Yes."

"Oh, right then," Harry broke out in a grin, "Thanks."

"It is absolutely no problem," Dumbledore answered him, his eyes shining mischieviously.

iIiIiI

"Excuse me, Professor," Draco reached the Headmaster looking around him to make sure no one was near enough to hear them. They were about to leave in a few minutes and he wanted to make sure that he spoke with the older man before anyone was around, "May I please ask you something?"

"Yes?"

"Well," Draco looked determined, "I- Harry, I mean Potter and I have become friends, and I think that you can agree that through everything that I have gone through, I needed a friend. I'm sure that none of the Board of Masters would like to hear about what went on at Hogwarts, especially if my safety was jeopardized. I was thinking that maybe they wouldn't need to find out-"

Dumbledore rolled his eyes when Draco couldn't see him and smiled, holding up his hand to stop the flustered Slytherin, "Mr. Malfoy, you have my permission to visit Harry at your will."

"How did you know that was what I was going to ask?" Draco asked suspiciously.

"Everyone always says no to my lemon drops," the Dumbledore mysteriously tapping his finger to his head. "Alas, Mr. Potter has beaten you to the punch. He has already tried to con me into having permission to see you while you are away."

"He did?" Draco asked, surprised.

"Yes, although I don't think he will thank me for having told you," Dumbledore thought better of his words. "Perhaps we can keep this between us?"

Draco's face lit up as he saw a grinning Harry walking towards him, "Not a problem. He's so dim, the sun could blind him and he still wouldn't see."

It was of interesting note, however, that Draco's eyes softened when Harry approached him, and his entire body language changed. The tenseness around his shoulders diminished and the frown playing on his lips lessened as he smiled.

_'Ah, young love_,' Dumbledore thought, moving away to give them their privacy.

iIiIiI

"He told you, didn't he?" Harry interrogated Draco an hour later while sitting on his bed.

They had left the hospital shortly after Draco finished his brief conversation with the Headmaster and had been escorted by the older man to Draco's home. It had been nice to experience a nicer, softer side of Narcissa Malfoy. Harry had not expected the same type of soft look to overtake her features as they did her son. Yet, as she beheld the home where she had vacationed with her family when they wanted a retreat from everything and everyone, it was almost as if she was a different person. She had ran her fingers softly over the creases of the sofas, fingering different photographs of her family as she went through the rooms to see what state they were in. Narcissa had invited her son and Harry to follow her and had even gone as far as to include Harry in their tour by telling him different things about the various places they visited. Much to Draco's embarrassment, Harry now knew where he had taken his first step, where he had thrown a ball of stray magic through a door, and where he had said his first few words. The home was jam-packed with memories for the Malfoys and seeing Draco's happy face, Harry felt special sharing all of their memories.

The tired woman had excused herself after their excursion was over, going to the kitchens to order some tea before heading to the third floor where she and Lucius usually slept while on the estate. Though she would have liked to question the House Elves presently, she had simply been too exhausted. In the time since she had been held prisoner in her own home, she and her husband had slept uneasily, sometimes not at all, made impossible by all the noise of the Death Eaters who seeked to intimidate them. It had been a very frustrating time and though she wished the circumstances were different, she was thankful that she felt safe for once, knowing precisely where her two boys were. Lucius' appearance had already been changed as had his room to provide greater protection; she would go see him early tomorrow at the Order's earliest convenience. It had been decided that she would not go to St. Mungo's unless taken there by various members of the Light. It was their hypothesis that if they changed guards, no one would suspect anything, especially with her own appearance changing every time she visited. As far as Draco was concerned, he was safely downstairs. Closing her eyes, the last thought in Narcissa's head was that for everything horrible that had happened to them, and even though her husband was in a hospital, today had been a good day. Today she hadn't worried about any of their deaths.

In the second floor, Draco couldn't agree more. He and Harry were finally alone again, and it felt like a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders when the shorter boy burrowed himself in his arms. It had been so long since he had seen his parents that he could finally breathe again. He finally felt a semblance of safety aided in great part by the Gryffindor kissing his neck. Had anyone told him a few months ago that he would be necking with Potter, basically putty in the Gryffindor's arms, he would have blasted them through a wall and insulted them until they felt like they had to crawl into a shell. Yet, he had never been happier to be wrong. Draco had led them to the bed, laying down when he and Harry separated. They were sitting side by side discussing everything that had happened, and Harry had coyly stated that Draco would be seeing a lot more of him than the blond may have thought. Draco tried to act surprised, but as Harry's accusing eyes betrayed, he had failed.

"Potter, why don't you calm down? You might finally make half of the world happy and keel over if you keep looking at me that way. Your eyes look like they're about to pop a blood vessel," Draco said pulling Harry closer to him.

"I resent this," Harry said though he didn't turn his face away when Draco sought out his lips softly.

Draco sighed into the kiss and lingered his fingers on the curve of Harry's neck, "You don't look so resentful. For the ugliest thing since troll dolls, you look quite...smashing, actually."

"Well, one of us had to pick up the slack," Harry smiled at him through lazy, half-lidded eyes. "I mean, look at you. Better yet, don't. If you catch a glance of your own reflection I'm afraid you will suffer from a heart attack. Best to keep you alive, _boyfriend._"

"Mr. Potter, the way you say that word is awfully suggestive."

"I just meant-" Harry blushed.

Draco grinned, "It's worth it to have you perpetually embarrassed." The blond ran his finger over the Gryffindor's burning cheek, "You're ridiculous."

"Thanks, Malfoy," Harry turned his head into Draco's palm. "I actually thought you were going to say something nice."

"You want to hear something nice?" asked Draco.

Harry cocked his head, "That would be nice."

Draco got close and bypassed the other's waiting mouth for his ear. He put his lips against the tip and whispered, "You make me invariably, unequivocally, and totally happy," grinning when he pulled back to see the apples of Harry's cheeks color a charming shade of red.

iIiIiI

Harry had woken up early the following morning, burrowed closely next to Draco's warm body. He had stared at the blond for the longest of times, tracing the contours of his fine bone structure, marveling at the softness sleep gave those often rigid and unforgiving features. The blond's cheeks were a soft pink and his lips were puffy; Harry actually thought he looked a lot like the painting of him as a baby. There was a lot of that same peacefulness there, as if he had nothing to worry about. Harry allowed his eyes to trace over his body, paying special attention to the patch of skin showing between his shirt and the hem of Draco's night pants. It was creamy smooth and pale, and Harry could not understand how attracted he was to this human being. He made Harry's heart race and his mouth go dry. Whenever Draco looked at him with _that _look that spoke of warmth and caring exasperation, it made something in his belly tingle. It felt a lot like-

"Why are you staring at me, you uncouth brute?" Draco mumbled from his pillow.

"I was just marveling at how so many things could go wrong with one person."

Draco cracked an eye open and grinned, "Why, thank you, darling. That's exactly what I wanted to wake up to."

"No problem, _honey_," Harry answered with a wink.

Draco sat up laced their fingers together, "Careful, Potter. You have been completing so many sentences lately that I'm actually afraid you're fooling me into thinking you are a normal human being."

"No, not normal," Harry shook his head. "Shockingly, amazingly, smashingly special. Definitely the best looking bloke you will ever come across."

Draco dipped forward, capturing Harry's bottom lip. Pulling back he bit his own lip and ran a hand through Harry's hair, "Definitely not normal."

"I'm going to go ahead and take that as a compliment," Harry said laying soft kisses along Draco's jaw.

"Vain as always."

"Confident, Malfoy."

"Stupid, Potter."

"Not unlike yourself."

"Get off me," Draco said but pulled him closer.

"You git," Harry said bringing their foreheads together. He bit his lip and swallowed once, his heart fluttering in his chest, "I have to tell you something."

"Your expiration date has come and gone?" Draco teased.

Harry shook his head and laid one of his hands across Draco's chest, his other going to the blond's waist, "I think I love you too."

iIiIiI

Hey, everyone. I'm so sorry this one is coming out a little late. I just had to get the creative juices flowing. After everything they have gone through, I just couldn't make myself throw more things at them. I thought that they deserved to be happy for a little bit. What do you think? Thanks for all the amazing reviews. MIND BLOWN. Please keep it up. REVIEW!

By the way, the translations for the last chapter are:

Narcissa: Draco, can we trust him? Is he on our side?

Draco: Yes. I think I love him.

Aly


	17. Chapter 17

"Shh."

"What is it?" Harry whispered with wide eyes.

He and Draco were sitting on the floor by Draco's bed, candy strewn between their legs as they faced each other. It was three weeks after Draco had been released from the hospital. He and Narcissa had moved into Grimmauld Place where they now lived with the Weasleys. The Burrow had been compromised, hounded by Death Eaters, until Dumbledore had no choice but to ask the Weasleys to leave their home. Once several of the Death Eaters approached Mr. Weasley asking him to join the Dark, insinuating what would happen to his family if he didn't, they had forfeited everything and had gone into hiding. If no one knew where they lived, their children weren't in danger. They had adapted to the change quite smoothly and had been nothing but kind to the Malfoys. Though it took the Pureblood aristocrats time to accept them, they were beginning to get along. Mrs. Malfoy and Mrs. Weasley could now be seen conversing about various subjects, mainly among them their children, while they sat together in the living room. It had been more than strange for Draco to see the difference in their relationship, a reminder of the drastic nature of the changes that had happened in a short span of time.

There had been a kindness there, however, and a warmth that he had never experienced. Mrs. Weasley had fussed over him as if he were her own, going as far as making his favorite meals despite his insistence otherwise. It was odd, but Draco actually liked to woman and could appreciate the lengths she went to in order to make him comfortable as is she was unused to acting in any other manner. His mother, as much as he loved her, had never interacted with him the way Mrs. Weasley did. Narcissa rarely lost her temper and never let it show on her face, opting instead to have a serious discussion with him even as a child when he committed a transgression. Her complete antithesis, Mrs. Weasley actually _yelled _at him once when he wouldn't eat. It had been the most hilarious assault he had ever been a victim of and had finally given in and taken her meal, mumbling as he walked away that he was trying to be respectful. Then, later that night, the woman had patted his head to show her appreciation. It was so strange.

Through it all, however, it was made a thousand times more bearable having Harry by his side. It was practically unbelievable that they had been together for an entire month, but time invariably passed. Draco still could not believe his luck, could not tire of having the privilege to hold the Gryffindor whenever they retired to his room. Though he would never admit it, it was humbling to be the one to cause Harry to look that happy, so happy that it made him forget that anything had gone wrong. They would sit together and talk about their day, and then, after Harry had given him the latest information on the Slytherins, they would whisper secrets until it was time for Harry to leave. The Headmaster allowed him to visit every day on the condition that he returned to Hogwarts before after hours. It was a plan that suited them, whether or not they wished it were different. Draco would study for his N.E.W.T.S in the morning while Harry was in classes and would return to his studies after he left. When he wasn't fantasizing about the way Harry's lips smiled or the curve of his neck, Draco was actually quite effective, teaching himself as he went along through the coursework assigned to him by the professors at Hogwarts. It was a lot less stressful now that he wasn't worried about being killed, though it didn't mean he had no worries.

"They will hear us," Draco cautioned turning wary eyes on the door, holding his breath.

"Who will hear us?" Harry asked moving closer.

Draco rolled his eyes, "_Them_, Potter. The bloody tag team from hell."

"What, your mom and Mrs. Weasley?" Harry grinned.

"It's not funny," Draco shot back although he had a tough time keeping a smile off his face. He grabbed on to the front of Harry's robes and pulled him into a kiss, "That should wipe that smug look off your face."

Harry licked his lips and pressed his hand down the front of Draco's belly, "I think that should only make me even more smug, don't you?"

"How do you figure?" Draco asked tracing the outside of Harry's palm with his index finger.

"Well," Harry kissed the corner of his lips, "I not only get to be right and make fun of you; I also get to snog you, which really you must admit is the best of both worlds."

"Devious little bastard," Draco said climbing on his lap, straddling him. "I think I'm rubbing off on you."

Harry winced, "Please, Merlin, no."

"If you didn't provide some services for me, I would be very tempted to pay a stray possum to strangle you," Draco narrowed his eyes threateningly.

"But, _darling_, how could you even say such words about the man you love so much?" Harry shook his head.

Draco looked around, "Where is this person of which you speak?"

"Hey!"

"I'm serious," Draco said. "If I supposedly love him, he must be something special."

"Yeah?" Harry bit his lip and smiled. "Tell me more."

"Well," Draco licked Harry's pulse point, "He would have to be amazingly handsome, muscular, a great flyer, and he would be independent."

"What else?" Harry pulled back to look at Draco.

"He would be _incredibly _kind," Draco rolled his eyes in good humor. "And he would know what I like and what I don't like, wouldn't make fun of my fears, would be with me forever. Oh, he would also worship the ground I walk on, and he would have a look on his face like the one you have on yours now."

"Like what?"

"Like someone forgot to water you and you're drinking up my words," Draco grinned.

"He would also have to put up with your ridiculous nature," Harry said slapping the front of Draco's chest, moving away.

Draco grabbed the front of his robes and pulled him close, backing Harry until he laid on top of the Gryffindor, "I don't see you complaining."

Harry smiled and winked before opening his mouth and yelling, "Mrs. Weasley, Draco's eating candy for dinner."

"Little bastard."

"Love you too, Malfoy."

iIiIiI

"I can't anymore," Harry breathed out, his hands shaking violently as he tried to stand.

Snape nodded and backed up against the wall, breathing heavily as he put away his wand, "That will do for today."

They had been going strong all day trying to get Harry to ground his magic and tap into the one all around him. It was the second week in April, and they had been practicing harder than ever. Voldemort had been increasing the number of attacks per wizarding village all over the country, even going as far as entering major cities. Families were scared to leave their homes and students had been leaving from Hogwarts at an alarming rate. A great number of Seventh Year Slytherins were gone, giving Dumbledore no other excuse than that their families feared for their safety. It did nothing to calm the Headmaster when they grinned viciously in front of him, aware that they all knew better. The irony was not amusing and the danger that the outside world presented for everyone was alarming. No one knew what would happen once the year ended. The Muggleborns and Half-bloods were especially worried, not knowing the proper way to protect themselves and their families. The worry in his friends' eyes drove Harry to push harder each day, to try to bypass exhaustion and pain and reach beyond himself in order to get a better control of his magic. It was gratifying, but in a lot of ways it was awful.

He literally showed up bleeding one night at Grimmauld Place. Granted, it was his fault since he had refused to go see Madame Pomfrey, but the idea of being with anyone other than Draco when he felt so badly was unthinkable. His friends were scared about him, and Hermione was driving herself to the ground to try and figure out a way to help his body be more resistant, but none of them knew what to do. Even Professor Dumbledore looked worried now and then when he came in to check on him and Snape at the end of their sessions. Nothing, however, quite measured up to the look that Draco gave him when he saw him stumble through the fireplace. His smile of anticipation had faded in an instant taking with it the color in his face; his eyes had gone round, scared. Without thinking, the blond had called out for Mrs. Weasley and his mother who rushed into the room and took over, cleaning Harry up and healing him. When they had gone to Draco's room, the Slytherin had handled Harry like he was afraid that he would break, touching him more gently than Harry had ever thought anyone would touch him. Draco had cried that night, asked him through unashamed tears to stop, the look in his eyes betraying exactly what he thought would happen to Harry even if he knew his words were for naught. Well into the night, Harry laid by his side, explaining again and again why he had to do it, as if he was trying to convince himself why it was necessary for him to risk his life when he was the happiest he had been, ever.

Yet, as tough as it was for Harry to say no to Draco, to tell him that he couldn't give him the one thing that he had asked for, he knew it would be tougher still to wake up one day and find out that because he hadn't fought hard enough, hadn't been strong enough, Draco wasn't live, that his friends had not survived. Being in love did something strange to him, something that he caring for his friends had not done. As much as he loved his friends, as close as they were, being with Draco gave him a new sense of responsibility. He now didn't just have himself; he had to blond to protect. Although he had always felt responsible for everyone else around him who looked to him to make sure that their world was preserved, it meant nothing compared to the feeling in his gut when he thought of his future with Draco. They had plans; they were going to go all over the world and do stupid things, fun things, just the two of them. No matter how much it hurt him physically or emotionally, he had to do it. He had to be strong, because it was his responsibility to protect the person for whom he cared, the person whom he loved and who gave him so much. Draco was worth everything.

"Shit, Potter. Your nose is bleeding," Professor Snape hissed out coming closer to the Gryffindor.

Harry put a hand to his nose and looked at his bloody fingers, biting his lip, "Darn. Draco is not going to be happy about this."

"Perhaps you should listen to him more, Potter. He, out of the two of you, is the one with the higher chance at saying something with some sense. If you are feeling weak, you have got to let me know. If I am not aware that you are suffering, I do not know to pull back or stop, you idiot Gryffindor."

"What is it about Slytherins that gives them lovely personalities?" Harry winced when the Potions Master pointed his wand at his face.

After stemming the flow with a flick of his wand, Snape pursed his lips, "If you are not more careful, I might just mutter the wrong spell. Although, I don't know if that would be effective. It might actually make you look like a human being."

"I resent that," Harry glared at him.

Snape smirked, "Believe me it gives me no pleasure to make a monkey out of you. Why should I take all the credit?"

"Have you been conferring with Draco?"

"It doesn't take a genius to figure you for a fool, Potter," Snape said going to put on his robes.

Harry put his wand away and mumbled, "No doubt. Look at you."

"Ten points from Gryffindor for mistaking me for someone who gives a damn," Snape said, but he was already walking out of the door.

iIiIiI

"You know, no one says you're stupid. They just say it took you sixteen years to learn how to comb your hair. We can all see how well that turned out," Draco said when Harry came in through the fireplace, walking away to his room.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Harry asked following behind him.

Closing the door, Draco turned angry eyes on him, "Are you fucking kidding me, Potter? You're breathing heavy because you walked up a set of stairs. Are you seriously asking me what's the matter? I should be the one asking you that."

"Draco-"

"No," Draco stopped him putting up a hand. "Please don't make this seem like it's normal, or okay, of fuck all that you try to make it seem like. I could tell the second you came through the fireplace that you worked yourself too hard. I- Harry, I _love _you. What do you think it does to me to see you that way?"

That stopped Harry; it made him close his mouth for a moment and look at Draco with surprise. As loving of a person as Draco was, as free with soft touches and gentle kisses, he was not one to speak about his emotions. He told Harry he loved him, certainly, but it was never said in a manner such as this. There was such emotion in his voice, something there close to fear that it made Harry take pause. Stepping closer to him, Harry pulled himself into the hollow of Draco's chest, "I'm sorry."

"I don't want you to have to be sorry," Draco breathed into his hair. "I just- you go back to Hogwarts and I'm here, and I have no clue what is going on. I don't know how the Slytherins are acting, don't have enough information to get a read on what might be happening. Yet, you have to be there, and you are trying so hard, and I know you are careful, but it doesn't make it any better on this end. I wake up wishing I could be with you; I go to bed wondering if you're okay. Then, you come here and you look exhausted, so exhausted that sometimes you sweat for no reason. Harry, I can practically feel your magic thrumming around you. I just want to make it better."

"You do make it better," Harry said looking up. "Draco, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have a reason to fight for."

"Bloody fantastic, boy wonder, make me feel like more of a wreck."

"No, Draco. I'm serious," said Harry leading them to sit across from each other on the bed. He laid a hand on the hem of Draco's shirts and looked down, studiously avoiding Draco's eyes, "I- before you, I didn't think that I was going to live through the war."

"You're an idiot."

"Go suck on a walnut, prat," Harry narrowed his eyes.

"So mature. It would actually mean something if your eyebrows didn't look like to angry muskrats who recently did battle," Draco said linking their fingers. "You shouldn't say stuff like that."

Harry smiled, "Just listen. Don't let your hair get in the way; the fumes might have done more damage than I had thought."

"Harry, I'm afraid your hair _ate _your brain. You have no room to talk."

Harry rolled his eyes and laid a soft kiss on his lips, "Anyway, pay attention. You might learn something. The thing is, everyone always put the responsibility on me to be the one to defeat Voldemort. When he came back it was like everyone put their lenses on Dumbledore and me to see what we would do. I guess when everyone was saying that it had to be me, I believed it, even before the prophesy came into the picture. After it did, it was like my fate was sealed. I'm sixteen, Draco. I know fuck all about nothing. Seriously, compared to you and Hermione, I know nothing. Yet, everyone thinks that _I'm _going to defeat the darkest wizard in recent history. I just accepted that this is how my life was going to end. I was just living a day at a time trying to enjoy my friends and the people I love before you. But now-"

"It's okay," Draco stopped him, running his finger over the apple of Harry's cheek. "I'll donate some of my brain cells for the cause. Now you have to get all that rubbish out of you head. We have too much to do."

"So, do you understand?" Harry asked. "I have to push as hard as I'm pushing if I want to be successful. I love you too, Draco Malfoy, even if most of the time I don't know why. I want to be with you for as long as you will have me. If this is the way that I'm going to get us that time to be together, then I will do it."

"I'll have you forever, you stupid Gryffindor. Stop smiling like that. This isn't funny."

"No," Harry agreed, "but it is touching."

"Will you at least simply promise to let Professor Snape when you're tired. He's told me you don't," Draco ran a hand through Harry's hair, cupping the back of his neck.

Harry narrowed his eyes, "You _have _been talking."

"Of course," Draco answered snootily. "We're Slytherins. What do you expect?"

"A little loyalty for starters."

"You will get that when you show some sense," said Draco.

Harry looked away, "You're a horrible boyfriend."

"Mmm hmm," Draco kissed his cheek. "But I have candy."

"Chocolate?" Harry asked.

"Yep."

"Oh," Harry thought about it. "I guess you're not that bad after all."

iIiIiI

"Oh- oh, my."

Harry stepped into Draco's old room and licked his lips. Earlier that day, Draco had asked him to bring him some of his clothes, left behind in their hurry to get the Malfoys to safety, before going to Grimmauld Place. He had finished his training with Snape and had hurried so he could see Draco as soon as possible. Yet, he had not expected anything like this.

Draco was standing next to his bed wearing nothing but a towel, his hair wet against his scalp. He had turned around when he heard the door click open and welcomed Harry with a wide grin. The evening light was playing off his skin, making shadows dance across his skin, oddly bringing out his eyes in the dimly lit room. There was something beautiful about the blond's profile, fine but defined, well placed on top of a long, pale neck. He was tall and strong, more muscled than he had been while unable to go outside in Hogwarts. He had been allowed to fly, to run while away, and it showed wonderfully. It was vaguely humbling for Harry to be standing in the room, his breath a little more erratic, his palms sweating against his pants. He didn't need a mirror to know he was blushing. It was kind of amazing.

"You're here," Draco said coming towards him, opening his arms.

"Maybe," Harry did a long blink. "Hang in there a moment. I think it might be a dream."

Draco looked completely charmed, "You missed me."

"I never said that."

"Hmm," Draco cocked his head. "Well, I guess I missed you."

"You guess?" Harry grinned. He stepped closer to the blond and ran his fingers down Draco's belly, "I guess I missed you too."

"No, I missed you, definitely," Draco admitted kissing the corner of his mouth. "It was bloody hell trying to convince my mother and Molly to let me come, but I couldn't take it anymore. They're driving me crazy."

"And here I thought you came because you wanted to see me," Harry said laying down on the bed.

The Slytherin grinned and let the towel drop, "I did."

"That's not fair."

Putting on a pair of boxers, Draco winked at him. He crawled onto the bed and curled up next to Harry, "How was your day?"

"Tough," Harry yawned. "But Snape let me out early because I told him I was tired."

"Is that supposed to be gratifying?"

"Did it work?"

"No."

"Well, I tried," Harry said laying his head on Draco's stomach.

"I had a dream last night," Draco said laying his hand down on Harry's head.

"Oh?" the Gryffindor looked up at him in question.

Smiling, Draco said, "It was about you."

"So it was a sweet dream-"

"No, I said it was about you. What part of nightmare don't you understand?"

Harry looked away, "Git."

"Anyway, we were in a forest. Well, you were. I was not there exactly, but I could see you. You looked bloody awful, and I mean bloody in the literal sense. Your lips were cracked and your hair was even worse than usual-"

"Prat."

"-and, I don't know, but something was very wrong. You seemed frantic you know, looking behind you as if you were expecting someone to get you. It was kind of scary," Draco ran his finger over Harry's cheek. "I wanted to save you, but I wasn't there, and you seemed so little and," he took a big breath, shaking the dream away, "It was nothing, really, but I woke up and my heart was going a mile a minute."

Harry allowed his eyes to go wide, "You have a heart?"

"About as much of one as you have a brain," Draco grinned. "So, no, not really."

iIiIiI

"Stay here tonight," Draco breathed out against the crook of Harry's neck.

Harry pulled away and looked up at Draco. The Gryffindor had stepped through the fireplace earlier that night and had shared some dinner with the Weasleys and the Malfoys; it had bee great, actually, getting to talk to all of them. Narcissa was opening up to him after nearly a month and a half of being in constant contact. It was sweet the way her eyes always followed her son, only seeming to be at peace when she knew Harry's eyes were also glued to him. Though Harry would never say it, it was almost as if the Malfoy matriarch trusted him. He knew today had been a specially tough day for them. It had been apparent on their faces since he had arrived. Narcissa looked tired, relieved when Harry went to sit with Draco. She had excused herself and had not returned until dinner, her eyes red and bright as if she had just finished crying. At his side, Draco had been more quiet than usual, watching Harry go about trying to cheer him up rather than participating. They had gone to see Lucius in the morning, and the news had not been good. The Healers saw no change and were conservative in their expectations. Though Draco had said nothing more than a couple of sentences on the subject, the difficulty it cost him was obvious in the hardness around his eyes, in the pulled down corners of his mouth.

Harry looked into his eyes and shook his head, "Draco, I can't. The Headmaster-"

"Harry, _please_."

They were sitting by the fireplace, alone, and Harry threw his legs around the blond, pulling on the front of his shirt, "Draco, I know you probably don't want to talk about it, and I'm trying to respect your privacy, but unless you tell me what's wrong I can't make it better."

"I can't," Draco said in a tone that implied he wanted Harry to get the hell away but with a grip that wouldn't let him budge.

"Draco- baby," Harry looked scared, scooping off a few stray tears on Draco's cheeks, which the blond was valiantly trying to fight off, "tell me."

"I had another dream."

"What?" Harry asked unsure of what Draco was talking about.

"A dream, Potter. Fight off your hair for a few minutes, please. In fact, it has been dreams, plural. Remember the one I told you about, where you looked scared and tired? Well, I have been having nothing but those types of dreams. Harry, I," Draco paused, regathering his thoughts. "I don't know if we can put anything by any form of power I may have, but I have a bad feeling. I know it sounds crazy, but-"

"Hey," Harry grabbed Draco's hand, "if I had gone by what people thought was crazy I would have been dead since First Year. I believe you, Draco, but look at me. I'm fine. I'm here. You don't have to worry. If it makes you feel better, I will do my best to try and keep out of trouble."

Draco glared at him, "Potter, that's like a starving man saying he won't eat when he comes across a feast."

"Pinky promise?"

"Harry-"

"Draco-"

"Potter-"

"Malfoy-"

"Lightning scar headed arse, listen to me," Draco huffed out. "And stop laughing. That wasn't meant to amuse you."

Harry bit his lip, "That made absolutely no sense."

"Are you going to stay?" Draco demanded.

"Let me see what Professor Dumbledore says," said Harry.

Draco's face softened, "You see, we would get on a lot better if you just always agreed with me, Potter."

iIiIiI

"You stupid arse," Draco laughed, his face lighting up in delight.

Harry laughed and groaned, slapping Draco's shoulder, "It isn't funny."

"I beg to differ," Draco said jabbing his ribs, laughing even harder when Harry bit back a curse.

It was the third week of May and Draco was there for four days in order to take his N.E.W.T.S. along with the rest of the Hogwarts student body. Though his own examinations would be given in a separate, hidden part of the castle, Dumbledore had been unable to arrange with the Ministry for his to be done away from the school. It would invalidate his scores to be in an unsecure area, and without going to the Board of School Masters, no one was going to approve for his to be given in a member of the Order's home or even in the Ministry. So, he was back in Hogwarts, though no one knew about it. He was staying in his old room, conveniently unchanged since his former stay. The Slytherin had arrived an hour after the championship Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, knowing that he would be too anxious to sit in his room without knowing what was going on. When he had finally walked through the door, a banged and bruised up Harry Potter had greeted him with a large smile. He was dirty, sweaty, and his ribs were bruised, but the cocky look on his face was nothing short than worn by a victor. It was, beyond all measure of the imagination ridiculously attractive.

"You fell, didn't you?" Draco asked pushing back Harry's dirty Quidditch robes.

Harry positively beamed, "Yes. It was absolutely smashing."

"And you won," Draco stated running his hands under Harry's shirt.

The Gryffindor nodded, his cheeks flushing, "Yeah, I caught the snitch."

"Because you're the seeker," Draco ran his finger to the hem of Harry's Quidditch pants.

"Mm hmm."

"And you're trained at finding things, aren't you?" Draco asked getting closer.

Harry swallowed, "Yes."

Draco got close to Harry's ear and whispered, "Well, I have a gift for you and if you can find it, it's yours." Harry looked about him, until Draco's hands guided his face back to him, "It's on me."

"Oh."

"Indeed, Mr. Potter," Draco raised his arms in the air. "Search away."

Harry grabbed Draco by the front of his pants and pulled him forward, "I will have to search everywhere."

Draco bit the lobe of his ear, "I'm counting on it."

With a small groan, Harry pulled far enough away that he didn't have the blond's breath on his ear. He allowed his hands to wander over broad shoulders down to a defined chest. His fingers trailed downwards and back, going over the curve of Draco's back and over his arse, staying there for a moment simply because he was Harry Potter and he was allowed. Stepping on his toes, Harry bit Draco's neck and pulled his shirt up and out of his pants. His hands ran their way up a muscled, taut belly until they reached their destination. There, beneath his hands and on Draco's chest, a small necklace was hanging. Tugging on the chain slightly, enough to take it off but not break it, Harry grabbed it and looked down.

"Holy shit."

Draco grinned, his cheeks flushed, his muscles tensed and hard...everywhere, "That's the expression I was after." Draco nudged Harry, "You might want to say something, genius."

"This is the stone your mother gave you for Christmas," Harry said looking up with wide eyes.

"Not a request," Draco calmed him, wrapping Harry's ring around the silver necklace where the round diamond was now set. "Simply a promise."

"Of what?" Harry asked.

"That I will love you forever."

"Oh."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Go take a shower, Potter. You reek."

Harry drew in a deep breath and got on his toes, touching his lips to Draco's, "I will too, you know."

"I was rather hoping."

Then, Harry frowned, "You suck a gorilla's arse, you stupid, rich Slytherin."

Draco let out a startled laugh, "What?"

"I will never be able to get you something as good as this," Harry said.

"I can think of a few things."

Blushing, Harry pushed past him feeling the tips of his fingers tingling, "I think I'm going to take that shower now. I do think I need it."

Draco smiled, "Congratulations, Potter."

"Thank you, Malfoy. I think I will win Quidditch cups more often if this is my recompense," Harry smiled warmly.

"The benefits of having a rich boyfriend," Draco gave him a cocky grin.

Shifting his head to the side, Harry nodded, "I knew there was a reason I was with you."

iIiIiI

Later that night, they were sitting on a table by one of the Kitchens' fireplaces. They had shared a quick late dinner after Harry had freshened up, and the Gryffindor was fingering the added necklace on his chest. It was comfortable on top of his key and shone in the firelight. Every time that he looked at it, his heart melted a little, even if he would never admit it. The greatest thing about being in love with Draco Malfoy was that Draco Malfoy loved him back. For all of his less than pleasant qualities, the Slytherin was not stingy with his love, offering it freely asking for nothing more than to be loved in return. It was all in his body language, the way he relaxed in Harry's hold, as if he finally had something to hold on to. For all of his riches, Draco acted as if Harry was his biggest prize.

"So, what does it feel like to be dating the handsome Draco Malfoy?" Draco asked Harry, deepening his voice.

Harry contemplated a moment and then said, "It's a struggle not to kill him most days, but his looks manage to redeem him at the worst of times."

"Is he very handsome then?"

"Oh," Harry said, "I don't know. He looks better than the average snake."

"How much better?" Draco pushed.

Rolling his eyes, Harry put his hand around Draco's ankle and squeezed, "Once more than infinity. What does it feel like to date the lowly Harry Potter?"

"Well, I have to get rabies shots every week and rinse myself with noxious chemicals to make sure I don't catch the stupid, but other than that it's great," Draco grinned.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Kind of like getting the thing I wanted-"

Draco didn't finish his sentence, cut off by the noise of the door opening across the room. A group of students was whispering as they pushed at the door, and he caught a flash of a green tie before Harry had him on his feet and moving. They rushed to the door leading to one of the secret passages and crashed through without looking back. Draco tripped and landed heavily on his knees, wincing as he pulled himself upright with the help of Harry's hands. His heart was beating hard against his sternum and his chest was going up and down harshly, the adrenaline pumping through his system.

"Did they see me? Harry, did they see me?" Draco asked going white.

Harry shook his head, "I don't know."

"Fuck," Draco breathed out.

"I think we need to talk to the Headmaster," said Harry grabbing Draco's hand when he nodded. "It's going to be okay."

Draco turned into Harry's body, "Fuck."

"It's going to be okay," Harry said over and over until Draco's breath calmed, not sure of who he was trying to convince, himself or the scared Slytherin in his arms.

iIiIiI

RELAX AND DON'T KILL ME! I just got back from a vacationing a few days after suffering a bit of writer's block. This story is NOT going to be left alone. Promise. PLEASE REVIEW. Expect more chapters soon.

LOVELY HUGS,

ALY


	18. Chapter 18

"Draco Malfoy, you are so dead," Harry Potter bit out, his eyes narrowing.

Draco grinned and said, "Catch me if you can," before tearing past Harry out the door and into the space of his estate.

It was a week after their last exam, and the Malfoys were spending some time with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in Draco's home. After they had been discovered in the Kitchens, Draco and Harry had hurried to Professor Dumbledore's office, eager to be reassured that everything was going to be okay. The news had been received with great gravitas on the part of the Headmaster and he had summoned the rest of the professors after he had bid the two students return to Draco's room. No one was sure if Draco had been seen by any of the Slytherins, but it was a chance sighting that they were not willing to let drop. Snape had immediately headed to the Slytherin common room where he awaited the return of the guilty party after Professor McGonagall traveled to the Kitchens and discovered them there still. Though immoral, the Slytherin Head of House had looked into the students' minds, finding there nothing out of the ordinary save some curiosity after hearing people talking when they first walked in on Draco and Harry. By the time the Slytherins had made it inside the room, however, there was no one there.

Professor Snape had related the information to Dumbledore and the older man received it with great relief, calling on Harry and Draco at once. The blond's breath literally left his body the moment he found out he was safe. The inopportune incident meant that it was no longer safe for Draco to go into the Kitchens as the professors could not monitor the place at all times. That being the case, Harry had to bring him his meals for the rest of the time it took Draco to finish his examinations. It had been a tough time for both of them, stressed as they were already by the end of the year tests. A testament to Harry's character, however, the Gryffindor never let on how inconvenient it was for him to lose time out of his studies in order to fetch Draco his meals. They had spent the rest of their time studying together, Draco left alone only for minutes at a time when Harry had a minor freak out and had to confer with Hermione about something that he didn't know or did not quite fully understand. Though Draco often knew the answer to Harry's questions, he would not let on. He knew how important it was for Harry to share time with his friends. Although Draco could not see the draw to Granger and Weasley, he knew that they were good to Harry, were good _for _Harry, and he would not allow his selfishness to keep his boyfriend away from the people that he loved.

Ron and Hermione knew something was going on between Draco and Harry. It was obvious on Harry's face every time he showed up that something major had changed; there was a happiness in the Gryffindor's eyes that they had never quite seen before. It didn't take a genius to figure it out after a while, though Harry squirmed his way out of their questions when he felt as if they were straying too close to the truth. It was never about keeping them in the dark, or about hiding his relationship. In fact, he felt he had nothing to hide. What worried him instead was the way they would react to Draco. Harry knew that his friends would be there for him, no matter what happened. It would no doubt shock Hermione and Ron to know their previously straight friend had fallen in love with another male, but Harry had no doubt that they would accept him. Whether or not they would accept that the person he fell in love with was Malfoy was a completely different story. It worried him, especially when he saw the calculating glint in Hermione's eyes. Though he tried no to think about the inevitable, Harry knew Hermione would piece it all together eventually. She was no the cleverest witch for the century for naught, after all. When it was clear that both Ron and Hermione knew, it was both a relief and an increased weight on his shoulders. Out of respect for his privacy, neither intoned their knowledge. It was obvious they were waiting for Harry to tell them. Instead of the expected anger, however, Harry could only detect a bit of hurt. He had never hidden something so important from them, and when the truth finally fell from his lips, to his great relief, both had cut him some slack and simply nodded, Hermione with a small smile. Ron only teased him twice but made it very clear that just because Harry wanted to get into Draco's pants, he would never forgive Harry if they did something in front of him that scarred his innocent brain.

In fact, Harry did want to get into Draco Malfoy's pants. They were quite a good looking pair, after all, well fitting and tight, covering the most spectacular pair of legs Harry had ever beheld. Those legs were long and strong, and they fit perfectly when Draco wrapped them around Harry's waist. The rest of him was great too, from his hard, muscled belly to the sinful lips that drove Harry crazy and went red at the bearest of nips. Harry Potter was infatutated, completely in love, and had a crush on his boyfriend that was truly embarrassing. Draco would catch him staring and would wink, making it clear that he knew just how much attention he drew from the Gryffindor, flaunting a cocky grin when Harry flushed. It was of the greatest vengeful relief that Harry began noticing that he was not the only one in that particular predicament. For reasons he would never understand but for which he was truly grateful, Draco Malfoy liked him, was attacted _to _him. Malfoy would trace the curve of his neck when they were alone with such a relgious attention that spoke of nothing but studious fascination. His fingers would crawl beneath Harry's shirt and marked their way down the curve of Harry's back until the trailed their way to Harry's bum, resting there comfortably while the blond marked softly the spot just beneath Harry's ear. When in company, the glances Draco gave Harry were subtle, so much so that Harry sometimes felt it was a result of his wishful imagination that he thought he saw Draco looking at him. Then, he would feel a heavy gaze and would turn to catch Draco's gray eyes, burning him to the spot where he stood, making the bottom of his belly drop under the flutter of butterflies. He was never as happy as when he was around Draco and it was a relief to spend the weekend with the blond, especially since they only had two weeks left of school. Though it was coming, Harry refused to think of what was going to happen, of returning to the Dursleys, and instead focused on the warmth he found in Draco's estate.

"You know," Harry said when they had raced dowstairs, across the couch that stood in between them, "you never fail to prove me right."

"How's that?" Draco asked moving a bit further back looking around for a route of escape.

"Well, for starters," Harry said inching a bit to his left in order to block Draco's way out, "every time that I speak the echo coming from inside your head shows the vapid emptiness that is you."

Draco frowned and shuffled to the right, "Potter, it's dangerous business to get a snake angry. I might just have to _bite_."

Harry blushed but followed Draco moving closer, "Anyone who told you to be yourself couldn't have given you worse advice."

"Oh, I don't think you mean that," Draco gripped his shirt and raised it just _so_ making a bit of his skin visible. "What are you looking at, you stupid Gryffindor? Did St. Mungo's test too many potions on you?"

"Don't flatter yourself," said Harry. "People do clap when they see you, you know- their hands over their eyes."

Draco frowned, "You aren't clever, you dirty, rotten Half-Blood."

"Better a Half-Blood than a snobby, critical, _ridiculous _Pureblood," Harry grinned.

Shifting to his right, Draco said nothing further, stepping on the couch and jumping across, caught by surprise when he was brought down to the ground heavily by Harry's weight. The breath was knocked out of him for a second, but when he finally came to, he figured it wasn't such a bad position to be in, "What's ridiculous is the way you seem to find excuses to get on top of me."

"And here I thought you wanted me to get on top," Harry teased, smiling in triumph when Draco's cheeks tinted pink.

Laying his hands on Harry's legs on either side of his waist, Draco grinned and took in a deep breath. Rolling his eyes, he gave Harry his undivided attention, "Is this the moment when you're going to tell me what it is that I did wrong?"

"Well, for one, you were born," Harry put his hand on top of Draco's chest gently. "Then there's me waking up a few minutes ago with a brand new set of robes that look as if they cost more than it would take to buy a small country."

"Oh, that."

"Yes, _that._"

"How did you even manage it?" Harry asked. "I am completely perplexed. You're in basic house arrest for Merlin's beard."

Draco gave a saucy smile, "Never underestimate me." Then, "Of course it also helps that no one knows my set of House Elves and that mother knows a particular tailor outside the country who is very discreet."

"I don't need to you to buy me things," Harry frowned.

"Relax," said Draco. "It's an end of the year, present, that's all. You worked very hard to prepare for your exams; I thought you would like them."

"I do like them," said Harry, breathing out. "I appreciate it, and I think you did a great job. The problem is, I don't need them. Besides, if I have to buy a new pair, I have my own money. I'm not completely destitute."

"Oh," Draco said, sitting up. "I offended you."

Harry looked away, linking their fingers, "No, not offended, precisely. It's just I have never had anyone do anything for me, Draco. I have always dome things for myself, you know? Besides, I don't want you to feel like you have to buy me things. That's not why I'm with you."

"Harry, I wasn't trying to curve your independence. Hell, even if I wanted to, I don't think it's possible. You're too headstrong and stupid for anyone to try and change you. Furthermore, I don't feel as if I have to buy you things. I wanted to get you something nice, because I thought you would enjoy to have an outfit that actually fit you. If you don't want them, though, they can be returned."

"No, no," Harry said. "I- thank you. I'm sorry. I just-"

Draco interrupted, "Just forget it, okay?" He stood up and looked down at Harry intently, "Although, I wouldn't mind watching you try them on."

"Oh."

Draco gave him a small smile, "Oh?"

"Okay."

iIiIiI

Later that day after sharing a picnic with Mrs. Weasley and Narcissa, Draco and Harry took a long walk on the grounds. They were making their way through a worn path just inside the woods watching the sun begin to sink beneath some dark, rain filled clouds. The day had been beautiful, sunny and warm, but the wind had began blowing a little after and had presumably brought with it the hints of a storm. Regardless, the breeze was comfortable, and Harry was only wearing a slight sweater above his shirt and jeans. Draco was decked out in a gray suit that brought out his eyes, looking as if he had just come from a business meeting, or like maybe he had just killed someone. Harry figured it depended on perception; he had no doubt that if he tried to wear a suit like that, he would look like a pig in a tutu. It just didn't fit.

Pushing a branch out of their way, Harry looked straight ahead, "So the end of the year is coming up."

"Yes," Draco agreed. "What of it?'

"I will have to return to my aunt and uncle's for a bit," Harry answered.

Draco stopped, "What?"

Harry sighed and scratched his head. He knew the blond wasn't going to take it well, "It helps protect me."

"How can they protect you when they treat you as if you are a vagrant taking up space in their home?"

Harry took a hold of Draco's hand. He opened his mouth and tried to explain, "When I asked Professor Dumbledore years ago if I could stay at Hogwarts or at Grimmauld Place, he told me that it was impossible. The only way to assure that Voldemort doesn't know where I am is to return to my aunt's house. Because she is my mother's sister, she helps protect me. It's part of the prophesy, Draco."

"Fuck the prophesy," Draco frowned. "Dumbledore is supposedly the strongest wizard alive. Can he honestly not find a way to keep you hidden and safe? I mean, you go to Hogwarts for the majority of the year. If you can be gone for that long and be fine, I don't see why you can't just stay here. No one knows about this place. It would-"

"Draco," Harry pleaded. "Please don't it more difficult for me to leave than it already is."

Draco closed his mouth but refused to look at him. Harry grabbed the front of Draco's suit jacket and pulled him forward, fitting their bodies together. Resting his chin on top of Harry's head, Draco asked, "How long do you have to stay there?"

"Just a few weeks," Harry promised.

"Will you be allowed to visit?" Draco asked

"I think I will be able to see you while I'm there, at least for a bit. Then, after a little time passes, I will be able to go to Grimmauld Place with you, or come here. It won't be that bad," said Harry.

Then, "Will I be able to see you?" Harry remained silent for a bit, not meeting Draco's eyes, "Why not?"

"The Dursleys don't really approve of anything out of the ordinary."

"What, because you're dating a guy?" Draco's brows scrunched together.

"Among other things," Harry said.

"Like what other things?"

"Well, there's the fact that you're a wizard," Harry admitted.

Draco did a slow blink, "They would dislike me because of what I am?"

"Don't you dislike them because of what they are, Muggle?" Harry asked, a little frustrated though he knew he shouldn't be.

"That is completely different."

"Bullshit, Malfoy. It is the exact same thing, so don't give me that shit," Harry said, walking away from Draco without looking back.

iIiIiI

Hours later, Harry shifted in his bed, entangling the bedsheets around his legs as he tried to get some sleep. He was in a room by himself, without Draco. In fact, they hadn't spoken since earlier that afternoon. Harry had returned alone and spent time with Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Malfoy, ignoring Draco when the proud Slytherin came through the door and went directly to his room. Neither of the women knew what had happened, but both could see that both boys were upset. Harry hardly said anything for the rest of the evening, and Draco's dinner was left almost untouched. Both refused to be the first to speak and conversation had be short while Mrs. Malfoy and Mrs. Weasley tried to get them to talk at the table. Eventually, they had retired to separate parts of the home until it was time for bed. Before he had to ask, Harry was shown to an individual room by Narcissa. She knew, though she conveniently ignored it, that Draco and Harry slept in the same room. Though she didn't know what happened between them, she knew her son enough to know that whatever had gone on was not entirely the Gryffindor's fault. The steady heat of Draco's gaze had let on just how much of a part he had partaken in the argument.

The door clicked open, and Harry sat up, reaching for his glasses in the darkness, "Who's there?"

"It's me," Draco said, coming closer.

Grabbing his wand, Harry lit the candle by his nightstand wishing desperately that he had a lamp right then, "What is it?"

Draco paused and looked unsure, "Could I join you?"

Pulling the covers back, Harry immediately moved the side, allowing enough room for Draco to crawl in between the covers. Neither said anything for the longest, choosing instead to stare into each others' eyes while the time ticked away. Finally, Draco opened his mouth and said, "I'm sorry. I was out of line."

Harry pulled himself closer and shook his head, "No, I shouldn't have lost my temper. You were right, partly. I- It's just hard for me to not be able to do something about it, and I got agitated. However, I shouldn't have taken out my anger with myself on you. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Draco said. "We can't really do anything about it."

"If I could, though," Harry said, "I would. The last thing I want is to go home to the Dursleys when I could spend time with you."

"It will be fine," Draco reassured them both. "It's only a couple of weeks, after all. They will go by quickly and we will be together again sooner than you think."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Harry leaned forward and touched their lips together, "For a slimy Slytherin, you can be very comforting."

"Well," Draco smiled into their kiss, "I kind of love you, you know? I would hope that I could make you feel better."

"You do," said Harry.

"I'm glad," Draco responded, his hands going around Harry's waist when the Gryffindor climbed between his legs.

Harry looked down at the blond with the softest of smiles, his hand going beneath Draco's shirts as it often did, "I love you, Draco Malfoy."

"I think you're dumb, Harry Potter," Draco answered with as much seriousness.

"Feeling's mutual," Harry said, but his hand kept on it's downward path stopping when it reached the hem of Draco's waistband. His fingers crawled just beneath, tracing the smooth patch of warm skin there, making Draco's cheeks flush.

Pulling Harry's hand out and up to his lips, Draco kissed it, "I love you too, Potter."

iIiIiI

Hermione, Ron, and Harry were sitting around the fire in the Gryffindor common room the last night before school let out. Earlier, Harry had his last lesson for the school year with Snape in an empty classroom, achieving for the first time something completely unexpected. Just when he had felt like he had no more energy to continue with their exercise, Harry had managed to tap into Snape's own power, using it with his own to knock the Potions Master on his arse after his body hit the opposite wall. After that bit of magic, Harry had almost collapsed, but his exhaustion was next to nothing when he understood the importance of what had occurred. There was no way that he should have been able to do that, but he had managed it. He had somehow used Core Magic the proper way, the way that was supposed to help him win a war. It was like a drink of water after years of thirst; he had never had hoped to win against Voldemort, but now, now he had something that the Dark Lord knew nothing about. Harry was making leaps with Core Magic, and that in itself gave him so much more confidence that maybe things would turn out for the better that he returned to Gryffindor bloody and tired but for the first time in a very long time hopeful.

"How long do you have to stay with the Dursleys this summer?" Ron asked breaking the silence.

Tearing his eyes open, Harry sat up, "Just three weeks. I managed to talk the Headmaster down from a full month."

Hermione looked at him with a slight bit of worry, "Harry, do you think maybe we should take you to Madame Pomfrey? You look awfully tired."

"Nothing a good night's rest won't fix," Harry assured her through a yawn. "What about you two? Hermione, are you going to stay with Ron to Grimmauld Place?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I'm going to go visit my parents for a few days, but then I'm leaving. They conferred with Professor Dumbledore without my knowledge. They apparently decided that it was best for me to go into hiding. They're Muggles, and even they can tell something is happening. They're worried."

Harry nodded, "The Headmaster told me that the attacks around Britain's wizarding villages have become more frequent, erratic almost. It's like Voldemort is losing his patience."

"Harry," Ron hesitated, "about the Horcruxes-"

"There's only two left," Harry said, looking at his hands. "We don't know where it is."

Hermione bit her lip, "I have tried my hardest to think about what could possibly be important enough for You-Know-Who to turn into one. Without more knowledge about what's going on, though, I don't have enough information to make an educated guess, no matter how much I look through books or read through past articles."

"I feel it's time the Order let us in on what's going on," Ron said, looking around to make sure the other students weren't listening. "We are going into our Seventh Year, for Merlin's sake. We have been through You-Know-Who's attacks since we were eleven. I think we deserve to know more."

Harry nodded, "I wouldn't doubt if you got your wish soon. Something big is going to happen; I feel it."

"Is it your scar?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, and no," Harry said. "I can't explain it. It's like a feeling in my gut. Something's coming. I just don't know what. Draco's dreams haven't stopped, by the way."

Hermione's eyebrows came together, "But it's been so long."

"I know," said Harry. "I'm worried."

Silence overtook them for a couple of minutes, each losing themselves in the privacy of their minds. Looking up, however, Ron shook his head. Trying to break the anxious atmosphere, he grinned, "Well, at least it's not raining in those dreams."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"Think about it," Ron raised his eyebrows up and down. "At least _they _aren't wet."

Blushing, Harry grabbed a pillow at Ron's head, saying through Ron's laugh, "Oh, shut up," trying to keep the stupid smile from his face.

iIiIiI

The first week spent in the Dursleys' home was one of the worst in Harry's life. He felt trapped under their heavy gazes and cautious demeanor; no one spoke to him unless they had to, choosing instead to take up ingoring him as a new way to pretend he wasn't at all there. The only satisfaction afforded to him was the letter he had taken with him when he had arrived, addressed to his aunt Petunia. Professor Dumbledore had kindly ordered them to not lock up Hedwig that summer. It was imperative that Harry be able to communicate with the Order, and they couldn't afford the Dursleys' foolishness during a time of such trouble. That meant that Harry received daily information as to what was going on in Voldemort's camp; he had been right when he had assumed that he, Hermione, and Ron would be allowed to know more. His friends were practically part of the Order now, training in their own right with several of the professors, strengthening their magic. It was obvious to everyone that if Harry was to march to battle, he would not be going alone. It both thrilled Harry and terrified him, not least of all because Draco had joined their ranks. The blond was training alongside his two friends, doing well if Hermione's praise was anything to go by. Thankfully having Hedwig also meant that he could communicate with Draco, who though proud of his progress refused to say much of anything to Harry. The Slytherin didn't want to worry Harry more than he already was and thought it best to keep the knowledge of his cuts and bruises to himself.

When Ron had let it slip that all three of them had almost broken several of their bones when they were attempting to blow wooden dolls up, Harry had ranted and raved at all three of them but especially Draco. He thought it a dirty, Slytherin trick for his own boyfriend to hide that he had gotten hurt. As for poor Ron, Hermione had torn him a new one when she had received Harry's worried letter. It was perhaps for the best, however, because after months, years really of indecision and obvious attraction, Harry's two best friend's finally kissed, in front of Draco no less. He had received a full, gory account from the Slytherin who seemed horrified that Dumb 1 and Dumb 2 had gotten together. After Harry calmed down, he found it slightly humorous. Of course Hermione and Ron were going to get together. It was inevitable. He was kind of relieved it had actually happened, really. As for Draco, no matter what he said, Harry knew that he was getting along better with his friends than all four had expected. Ron and Draco still yelled at each other when they got exasperated, but they hadn't come to any blows, and Hermione had even hugged Draco once. It had left the Slytherin distraught. As he had complained to Harry, his Slytherin macho-ness was being eaten away by the acidity of their Gryffindor stupidity.

Putting Draco's latest letter down on his desk, Harry got up with a large smile his second week in Privet Drive. It was Thursday already, which meant that in just another week, he would get to rejoin everyone back in Grimmauld Place. Even better, he was going to visit them shortly. He didn't remember being so excited, even if his Uncle Vernon had yelled at him until he went blue in the face for bringing a fellow freak into his home. Lupin was to fetch him, and when he had told the Dursleys so they had all reacted with varying degrees of disapproval. Regardless of how his relatives felt, the time finally came and Remus stepped through the fireplace with a warm smile in place. He attempted to share pleasantries with Harry's family but looked at Harry in relief when he came down the stairs. They left the moment Harry stepped through the fireplace, not looking back to see the large piece of furniture Uncle Vernon shoved against the fireplace opening, hoping to keep them away.

"Well, well, well," Draco drawled. "Take off the mask, Potter. Don't you think it's a little early for Halloween?"

"You have a mouth dirtier than Snape's hair, Malfoy," Ron shot at him. He smiled at Harry, "Nice to see you, mate."

"Hi, Harry," Hermione welcomed him with a hug.

"Hi, Hermione, Ron. Malfoy, I would say hi to you, but I'm not sure if you would understand," Harry grinned.

Stepping forward, Draco smiled, "Welcome back, you ingrate."

"Happy to be here," Harry answered bystepping Hermione to give the blond a long hug.

After a few moments, Ron cleared his throat, "Harry, what did I say?"

"Go suck on a dumb stick," Draco bit out laying a gently kiss on Harry's neck.

Ron grinned, given the perfect opportunity, "I don't really like to suck on any sticks, actually. I'm not you, Malfoy."

Groaning, Harry stepped back, linking his fingers with Draco's, "That was below the belt, Ron."

"Well, we would hope so, wouldn't we? If it was anywhere else, something would definitely be wrong," Ron laughed, leaving them after grabbing a hold of Hermione's hand, pushing the blushing witch out of the room.

iIiIiI

Harry was laying between Draco's legs on top of the small bed where Draco now slept. He kissed the blond slowly, allowing his tongue to explore Draco's mouth leisurely, "I missed you."

Draco smiled into the kiss, "I hardly believe it could be more than I have missed you."

"Yeah?" Harry asked hopefully, his face splitting into a happy smile.

"Yeah," Draco ran a hand through Harry's soft, crazy hair. "I love you."

"I love you too," Harry whispered.

Draco switched their positions and pinned Harry with a knee between the shorter boy's legs, "So much."

"I can tell," Harry blushed a lovely pink shade.

"Glad to see I'm not the only one," Draco smiled.

Arching his back when Draco's fingers trailed down his belly beneath his shirt, Harry groaned, "You don't play fair, Malfoy."

"Thank you, Potter," Draco bit the hollow place where Harry's neck met his chest.

Twisting them over, Harry sat atop the blond, pressing his thighs down and pinning Draco's hands above his head. He leaned down and placed a light kiss on Draco's nose, "Two can play at that game." He licked his lips and pushed down with his bum against the hardness beneath him, blushing with triumph when Draco moaned ever so slightly.

"Harry-" Draco breathed out with cloudy eyes.

"Harry, Draco," Mrs. Weasley called, "Dinner time!"

"Bloody hell," Draco arched his head back agaist his pillow in frustration.

Harry kissed Draco's neck and bit down slowly, "Isn't life a bitch sometimes, Malfoy?"

"Yes," Draco frowned.

Harry got close to Draco's ear and whispered, "It's called karma. Maybe you would have better luck if you weren't such a foul git," jumping off before the Slytherin could catch him.

iIiIiI

Taking a running start, Harry crashed atop a sleeping Draco Malfoy the first week in July. Twisting in bed to see who his attacker was, Draco grinned, "You're here."

"Indeed, sir. I am," Harry said fitting his body to Draco's underneath the covers.

Draco breathed in Harry's warm scent and smiled, sliding his hands around his waist, "I'm glad."

"Hey, what happened?" Harry asked tracing the bruise on the left side of Draco's jaw.

"Oh, Weasley punched me," Draco said, waiting, just waiting for it.

"What?" Harry asked standing up.

Draco winced and rolled his eyes, "Not so shrilly. You are worse than Molly, I swear."

"Ron puched you?" Harry asked not paying attention.

"Yes."

Harry narrowed his eyes, "What did you do?"

Draco laughed, "What did _I _do? Thanks for that, _boyfriend_. I didn't do anything, thank you very much. For that matter, neither did Weasley. We were training, and we just got carried away."

"Oh," Harry shook his head. "Did you get a few good shots in?"

"You should see his eye," Draco said looking very pleased.

Suddenly Harry laughed, "What did Mione say?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Literally nothing," Draco said. "She hasn't spoken to either of us since it happened, and mother and Mrs. Weasley refused to heal us. They thought it served us right."

"I happen to agree," said Harry, though he trailed his finger gingerly over the bruised skin.

"Does it make me look dashing and manly?" Draco asked waggling his eyebrows.

"If by dashing you mean stupid and by manly you mean resembling a troll, then yes," Harry nodded.

"Fuck you," Draco threw at him.

Biting his bottom lip, Harry grinned, saying, "Any time."

iIiIiI

Hope you guys like this one. PLEASE REVIEW! Let me know what you think about the progression of the story. So far, Draco and Harry had been together for five months, so I don't think that their sexual banter is rushed. Let me know if it is.

Aly


	19. Chapter 19

"What are you doing?" Harry asked catching a guilty faced Malfoy upon entering his room. "Are you _folding _my socks?"

Draco hid his hands behind his back, blushing, "Maybe."

"Draco Malfoy doing manual labor. Who would have ever thought it?" Harry teased with merry eyes and a coy grin.

It was, in fact, the first time he had reason to smile, before entering the room too tired to do even that. To say that Harry's day had not been great was a gigantic understatement. It was Wednesday, three days after his arrival to Grimmauld Place, and the morning had begun with the promise of fun times with his friends. Almost as if he sensed happiness and wanted to crush it, at least in Harry's opinion, Professor Snape had arrived and interrupted a game of Quidditch in the backyard. Unpleasant as their sessions usually were, caught unaware, Harry suffered more than usual during their practice. For starters, it was the longest they had partaken in, ever, going on literally for hours, breaking only for food and some rest. Now that Harry had managed to tap into Snape's power, the professor was pushing harder than ever to get him to do it again. He was employing every ounce of his concentration, but Harry could not seem to replicate what had happened on his last day at Hogwarts. Snape grew inevitably more impatient as their attempts grew in fruitless number, and it was only when he directly sent a strong blast from his wand straight at Harry that the Gryffindor somehow managed to stop it in midair and turn the attack on Snape, using the man's own power. It felt horribly strange, like something foreign was crawling on him. After he had described the feeling, the Potions Master had nodded, the tips of his lips twisting up ever so barely, and he had informed Harry what it was: Snape's magic fused with his own at the time of the attack, and because Harry was unused to it, it would feel strange for some time to come.

Magic was a strangely intimate thing, Harry learned. Having that privacy invaded even if it was by his own doing was distinctly uncomfortable like unwillingly sharing a secret he had kept for years, like the time he accidentally broke one of Dudley's toys when he was younger but had pretended he didn't know what his aunt was talking about when she confronted him. It also left him drained, and his nose began bleeding again. Though he didn't know why, his muscles were sore and he felt a deep exhaustion in his very bones. After Snape had finally allowed them to quit, breathing hard and fast through his body's perspiration, they both slid to the ground and sat quietly for nearly ten minutes. Harry did not feel as if he could stand, though he eventually managed it despite the shaking muscles of his upper thighs. The Potions Master had left shortly after with a nod to Harry and a snide comment that Harry actually recognized as a compliment once he heavily stripped it of the sarcasm and witticism. Though excited with the progress, he couldn't help crawling atop the couch in the office they had occupied and had fallen asleep, waking up hours later to find a thin blanket thrown over him. He had learned at dinner that Hermione had been the one to do it, while avoiding Draco's calculating gaze, all the time pretending he didn't feel as if a pig in a wig had run him over.

After dinner, Draco had gone missing and it wasn't until then that Harry had been able to find him, standing tall and proud next to a pile of Harry's laundry on the bed. The tips of the blond's ears had gone pink, but his mouth was set in hard line as if daring Harry to say anything further. It was easy to sense the danger a few words could buy him, and Harry did his best to put on a jovial smile, "How are you?"

"Fine," Draco said, setting the socks down next to the ones he had already done.

Walking closer, Harry took the Slytherin's hand, "Have I told you how very handsome you look today?"

"Potter, I always look handsome," Draco rolled his eyes, though a small smile tugged at his lips. "It's not something that I can very well help."

"You cocky son of a motherless goat," Harry kissed Draco's cheek.

Tilting his lips up to meet Harry's, Draco said, "If my mother hears you, some of the family jewels could go missing, love, and I'm not talking about the one I put on your finger."

"Well, we wouldn't want that, would we?" Harry asked pushing his waist against Draco's.

"No," the blond hooked a finger inside the waistband of Harry's jeans. "We want them just were they are." Then, pulling back, "Although, Ginny Weasley seemed awfully interested on your ring."

Harry, hesitated, unsure as to how to proceed, something in Draco's low tone making it clear he was royally pissed, "Well, it's a diamond that goes over the entire band. Girls like that sort of thing."

"Girls like all sort of things," Draco said, narrowing his eyes. "Like petting your hair and putting their heads on your lap, apparently."

Oh, so this was about after dinner. They had all gone into the living room where Draco and Ron had shared a short game of chess before the blond left the room. Harry had been sitting with Ginny on the couch and had shown her his ring after the glint of the firelight against the stone had caught her attention. She had complained about how she would never have something like that and had laid her head down on Harry's lap for a few minutes, listing off all the reasons why the boys she was interested in would never do something so nice for her.

Harry smiled gently, "Draco, she's like my sister. You don't have any reason to be jealous."

Draco's face hardened, "I am not _jealous_ of some flea-bitten red headed dandy girl who's half in love with you."

"Hey, don't talk about her like that," Harry said, thinking Draco was being just a little bit unfair. They had not done anything wrong, after all.

Draco slipped his hand from Harry's and glared at him, "I will say whatever the fuck I feel like saying, Potter."

"Not about someone who's like part of my family, you won't," Harry insisted.

Shaking his head, Draco pushed hard past Harry, not looking back, "Fine. If she's so important, why don't you go and spend the night with her. Let's see if she fucking folds your laundry just to be nice."

"Draco-" Harry called, but the blond was already gone.

iIiIiI

Knocking softly on Draco's door, Hermione stepped inside looking a little unsure of herself, "Draco, do you mind if I talk to you for a moment?"

Looking up from the book he was reading on his bed, Draco nodded, "Did Potter send you?"

"Your _boyfriend _is worried that you won't listen to what he has to say," Hermione said kindly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Draco, he really has done nothing wrong."

Throwing the book aside, Draco sighed, "I know he hasn't _done _anything wrong, Granger. That's not what this is about."

Hermione looked perplexed, "I know everyone thinks I'm the clever one in the group but help me out on this one. What exactly _is _this about then?"

"Boundaries," Draco ground out, almost as if he had been bursting to say what he had been ruminating about all night. "He has to draw boundaries. I would never do something like that in front of him, would never have such disrespect."

"But Draco," said Hermione, "you just said yourself that they did nothing wrong."

"I also just said it's not about doing anything wrong, Granger. You may have an excuse as to not know what Pureblood customs are, but the Weasleys know how I feel. Ginny had no right to invade Harry's space, our privacy, like that. I would never begrudge him caring for you lot, though I may not understand how he can stand the fact that the hair on both of your heads is so similar that they might mate and create a monster," Draco said. "It's the fact that it is simply uncouth to belittle your partner in such a manner in front of others."

"Draco, Harry knows nothing of Pureblood custom," Hermione reminded him. "He was raised by Muggles."

"He shouldn't have to know," Draco let out, hurt. "She was hanging off him, for fuck's sake. I _am _jealous, but if you tell him so Granger I will make all of your robes even uglier than they already are. I shouldn't have to get mad; there should be no reason for me to be angry about something like this. Loyalty I don't expect from anyone, but from the person that I _love_-"

Hermione frowned, "Alright, that's enough. Harry loves you Draco, and you and I both know that there is no one out there who is more loyal than him. Now, I saw stupid Ronald flirting like an idiot with that stupid gaggle of girls all school year so I know where you are coming from. I understand you're hurt, and I can even admit you semi have the right to be. However, if you think that alienating Harry is going to make this any better, you are sorely mistaken."

"But-"

"_No_. I don't know how you managed it," Hermione went on, "but you made Harry fall for you, and I can see it in your eyes that you deeply care about him as well. It's a very good thing that you two have going on. Do you really want to let it all go to waste just because he was talking to someone he has basically grown up with?"

Draco looked sullen, "No."

"Good," Hermione said looking satisfied. "I didn't know I was going to have to be the voice of reason for another dunderhead, I swear. I won't tell Harry that I came to talk to you, because, no, he didn't send me. I was just worried; he hasn't said a word to us. Whenever you're ready to talk it out, rationally, please search him out. He looks pitiful."

Draco let out a deep breath, "Do you think he will be angry with me?"

"Yes," Hermione said, but then she smiled, "but it won't last. Mostly I think he's mad at himself because he doesn't really understand what he did, and he's mad at you because you won't tell him. Just don't lose your temper, even if Harry loses his."

"Thanks, Granger."

Hermione put her hand to her heart and did a fake gasp, "Oh my god, I think Draco Malfoy actually said something nice to a Mudblood."

Smiling, Draco blushed and threw his book at her, "Oh, shut up. You're still a rotten waste of space."

"Not unlike yourself, I'm afraid," Hermione grinned, leaving the room.

iIiIiI

"Harry?" Draco knocked on the door to the room Harry was supposed to share with Ron but which he never slept in. It was his best guess as to where the Gryffindor would be.

Turning to the door from his bed, Harry sat up, "Talking to me now, are you?"

Draco sighed and came further into the room, "I'm sorry I lost my temper."

"I don't want you to be sorry, Draco. I just want you to tell me what it is that I did," Harry said, making room for Draco to sit next to him on the bed.

Looking down at his hands, Draco responded, "You technically did nothing wrong."

"Technically?"

Draco glanced at Harry, raking over his naked chest for a second before continuing, "It's Pureblood custom that once a couple is announced to society, it is not prudent for either party to publicly engage in tactile interaction with other people. It is disrespectful."

"Draco," Harry grabbed his wrist, "I didn't know."

"I know you didn't," Draco said turning to him.

Drawing closer, Harry set his other hand on Draco's waist, "Then why are you so angry at me?"

"You can't make fun of me," Draco said.

"Promise."

"I- She was just all over you. It was unseemly."

Harry grinned despite yourself, "It sounds an awful lot like jealousy dripping from your mouth."

"Potter-"

"Honestly, I think you might have growled just then," Harry said, stopping Draco's angry comment roughly with his lips.

He was so blasted relieved that Draco was talking to him again that he could actually overlook how silly he thought the whole thing was. It didn't make real sense to him, not being able to touch other people, but he knew he would be able to talk Draco over after a while. Meantime, both his hands and his mind were otherwise occupied. Harry had not missed the hungry look Draco had given him; in fact, he had forgone wearing a shirt to bed precisely because he had hoped that if Draco came to talk and things got dicey, he might be able to distract the Slytherin. It wasn't very noble of him, but he knew it would work. Furthermore, it was for a good cause. Harry _hated _having Draco mad at him. He was absolutely miserable, and his stupid brain wouldn't shut up even if he had done nothing wrong. Life was much more enjoyable with Draco around.

Apparently, Draco agreed, giving a throaty moan when Harry's knee snuck between his legs as the Gryffindor laid them down. Pausing only to gain breath, Harry took the opportunity to discard Draco's shirt, one of Harry's in fact that the blond had put on shortly after their argument. The darkness in Draco's eyes was doing embarrassing things to Harry, making his face heat, though he didn't know how blood could make it up so high seeing as how the majority was pooling in a more southern region. Draco arched under his touch and grabbed Harry's head, pulling the Gryffindor down for another long kiss, which continued even as Draco reversed their position. Pulling away, Draco looked down and bit his lip. He loved it when Harry got this way. His lips were as red as the apples of his cheeks, and his eyes became a brilliant, hungry green. His chest and stomach looked amazing, the muscles becoming more prominent as the Gryffindor tried to reach him. There was something quite beautiful about the way Harry looked at him, sought him out, as if in that moment in time, Draco Malfoy was the single, most important being in the entire world.

Draco blushed scarlet when Harry moaned as his hand trailed the front of the Gryffindor's jeans, "You look really good like this."

Harry bit his lip and raised his hips against Draco's hand, "You look quite well yourself. In fact, for once, you look as evil as mittens."

Draco laughed and ground his hips into Harry's lavishing in the throaty response, "Oh, I think I can manage better than that."

"I-"

Harry's response was cut off, however, when Ron and Hermione pushed into the room, hand in hand. Catching sight of them, Hermione blushed scarlet, and said a quick, "_Sorry!" _before dragging Ron out and slamming the door.

"Oh, come on," Draco said rolling his eyes, frustration pooling down his belly.

Harry let out a small chuckle then started laughing, "Don't you just love my friends' timing?"

Grinding down his hips again, Draco grinned in victory, "Don't you?"

Harry eyes went hazy, "Maybe not this time."

"Thought so," Draco said, leaning down to give the Gryffindor a long, lasting kiss.

iIiIiI

Harry was having a very, very difficult time concentrating on the task at hand. He, along with Ron, Hermione, the twins, and Draco were currently being instructed by Nymphadora Tonks, under the careful eye of Remus Lupin, to defend themselves with more powerful spells than they had ever been allowed to use. Harry had taken his turn already, successfully unarming the witch and was taken a breather, sitting by the floor of the cleared out room in the second floor with Hermione. Ron, Fred, and George were watching the fight currently going on between Tonks and Draco with intent attention, cheering when one of them got a good hex in. He knew that he should be focused on the tactical aspects of the battle, recognizing the weaknesses in both parties and their strengths, but all Harry could really do was close his eyes as the shudder of power coming from both figures rained over him.

They were both distinctly different, exactly as different as the two cousins were. Yet, while he could appreciate the strength behind Tonks' magic, it was Draco's that intrigued him. There was an unexpected promise behind his blows that spoke of talent and natural inclination. It was like seeing someone exhibit potential before your eyes for the first time, only sexy. Draco had _power_, pure and unadulturated. It breathed over Harry slyly before going away; the Gryffindor had no doubt that Draco did not know himself what was coming off his wand, had probably never taken the time to study his own magic. Opening his eyes, Harry knew he was blushing, the sight in front of him making it no easier for him to lose the erection Draco's power had given him. The blond looked _good _doing battle, tall, strong, and agile. His eyes darted about, aiming rapidly past Tonks' weak spots and covering his own inches away from being struck. In the end, the witch brought him down, but he took her hand with a grin and joined Harry looking no worse for wear.

"I like this," Draco said, his eyes alight as he watched Ron start to take his turn.

"You did very well," Hermione commented. "Although, if I may point out, if you start your shield from the center of your body, your magic will keep you covered all the way. You start a little to the left; that's how she got you."

Draco nodded, "Thanks for that." He turned to Harry, "Did you see anything that I can work on?"

Harry smiled and took a hold of Draco's hand, "Everything looked good to me."

Glancing down, the tips of Draco's ears went pink, "I bet."

"Bugger!" Ron yelped, falling on his arse. "That wasn't fair, Tonks."

The witched gave him a feral grin, "Still got you, didn't it?"

"You told me there was a spider on my shoulder," Ron said indignantly, turning around and leaving the room.

"Oy, Ron," Tonks followed him out of the room, "I was only joking."

"Oh, dear," Hermione shook her head.

Harry grinned, "Ten galleons says she talks him down by dinner."

"No deal," Draco shook his head. "Stupid Gryffindors, too soft in the head to keep up a good grudge."

iIiIiI

"Oy, what the bloody hell do you think you are doing?" Ron bit out, stuffed without courtesy in the downstairs library.

Looking completely unapologetic, Draco said, "I have a problem."

"Yeah, you're mental," Ron said looking around the room. "Hermione, what are you doing here?"

"I don't know," she said moodily. "Draco locked me here without my wand. What exactly is going on?"

"Harry's birthday is coming up," the blond said as if that statement answered everything.

"_And_?"

"And I don't know what to get him."

"So you kidnap us?" Ron asked looking at him as if he was insane.

Draco rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, "Oh, don't be so over dramatic, Weasley. I need your help, and I had to make sure that Harry didn't notice this was going on."

"Alright," Hermione said, sitting on a comfy chair. "What kind of gift do you have in mind?"

"Something that will make him feel special."

Hermione looked pensive, "Well, you gave him your family's wedding stone and you gave him a set of robes. Am I free to assume that there's no budget?"

Draco looked insulted.

"Right then."

"Maybe a new broom," Ron suggested.

"He's got one."

"Books?"

"He's not you, Hermione," Ron said with a frustrated smile.

"A _car_."

"Honestly Ron?"

"I can't buy him common sense, either," Draco said pacing the room.

Giving a suffering sigh, Ron said, "What you should do is go ahead and get your bloody business very well on, already. He's acting all snippy lately, like he's constantly on edge or something."

"It would help if you didn't constantly walk in on us," Draco pointed out.

"How am I supposed to know where you are? Just stay in one ruddy spot for Merlin's beard. I go to the backyard, there you are; I go to the kitchen, caught again; I go to my own bloody room, and you're there. It's down right impossible to escape you," Ron burst out. Draco looked thoughtfully at him, "Oh, Malfoy, _ew_! That's my best friend you're thinking naughty things about. Stop it!"

Rolling her eyes, Hermione got up, "I'm going to take him away before his eyes roll to the back of his head. He's not too bright, you know?"

"Never would have guessed it," Draco said with heavy sarcasm.

"Hey, Hermione! He's the enemy, remember?"

"The enemy who has his tongue permanently down Harry's throat?" Hermione asked skeptically. "I don't think so."

"_Ew_."

"Thanks for nothing," Draco called out watching them leave. "Stupid Gryffindors," but he sat thinking long after they were gone.

iIiIiI

"Oh, I have been looking forward to this all day," Harry sighed laying down next to Draco, pulling the covers atop them once he was comfortable.

Draco's arms settled comfortably around his waist, "Long day?"

"Yes," Harry said looking into his eyes. "Snape is a menace, I swear. Did you know I actually think he made a joke today? It was cruel and not funny, but I laughed out of pure shock."

"He always makes jokes," Draco said. "It's just that your tiny brain can't process his sophisticated humor."

"If I have to see a therapist one day, no one will be to blame but you. It feels like I haven't seen you all day."

"Mmm," Draco bit the corner of Harry's shoulder, hooking his thumbs into the inside of Harry's boxers, what he had taken to wearing to bed in the July heat. "Did Lupin teach you anything new after dinner?"

"He- _ah_," Harry breathed out slowly when Draco bit a particularly responsive spot on his neck. "He taught me- taught me how to- to- Draco you're making it very hard to concentrate."

"That's the point," Draco gave him a sinful grin. "I like to make it _hard_."

"Oh, bloody hell," Harry muttered when Draco's thumbs sank down and took with them his boxers.

Draco pulled the covers back and threw the offending piece of clothing on the floor near the bed. He turned back and stared down at Harry Potter, stark naked and beneath him on his small bed. Erotic simply in the act of walking, naked, Harry looked something like wet dream come true. The dim light afforded to them by the lone candle on Draco's nightstand sent the flickering fire dancing across Harry's skin, shadowing the indentations of his muscles and the inside of Harry's hipbone. It was agonizingly tempting, but Draco allowed himself the pleasure of tracing the Gryffindor's body with his eyes, from his flushed face to the very tip of his toes, which curled when Draco's hand began tracing a trail, downwards. Harry reached up and took off Draco's pijama top with little ceremony, running his own fingers down his partner's chest happily, his hands trailing dangerously close before going up again. It was a tantalizing game Harry liked to play; he loved seeing Draco get this way, focused like a hawk on Harry's movements. Draco thought it was cruel.

Bending down, Draco stole a long kiss from already bruised lips, tugging on Harry's bottom lip before kissing his way down to his chest. He raced his tongue down the middle of Harry's stomach, dipping low into Harry's belly button, making the Gryffindor draw in fast, raw breaths that did nothing but make Draco ache. He linked their hands together and went up for another kiss, mumbling how beautiful Harry looked against his lips. It was electric; that's how it felt. Draco felt more alive than he had ever felt when they were like this, so intimate that Draco knew, just _knew_ that neither had ever shared something like this with anyone else. It was obvious they were both virgins, but when he was with Harry it never felt that way. The Gryffindor could play his body like a fine tuned instrument, a good students in all the months that they had been together. He knew exactly where and when to do something that drove Draco absolutely mad. Kissing the lobe of Harry's ear and blowing slightly on it, Draco grinned, thinking that for his part, if there was a test on knowing what to do to make Harry Potter squirm deliciously like _that_, he would get top marks.

"Draco," the door burst open, "I just thought of something- oh, my eyes!"

"Oh, come on!" Harry burst out, pulling the covers up.

Touching his forehead to Harry's, Draco could do nothing but laugh in frustration, "I hate your friends."

From the hall, Ron called out, "Sorry, should have knocked."

"You think?"

"I said sorry!"

Shaking his head, Harry sat up, "Could you please pass me my boxers?"

Draco cocked his head to the side, "Hmm, I don't know if I can do that."

"Your brain finally turned off, didn't it?" Harry asked seriously.

Draco grinned, "Shouldn't have said that."

"What are you doing?" Harry asked a moment away from following Draco's retreating back before he remembered what state he was in.

Bending to pick up Harry's boxers, Draco grinned, "You should be nicer to me, boyfriend."

"Okay, I will. _Wait-_ where are you going?" Harry called out, clinging to the covers.

Walking out the door, Draco looked back and laughed, "I think Ronald wanted to talk to me, love."

"Go suck on a shoe, you stupid Slytherin."

"But, Harry, dear, I would so much like to suck on _other _things," Draco taunted licking his lips.

"My ears!"

"Oh, shut up, Ron!" Harry threw his pillow into the hall, falling back and staring at the ceiling in frustration once he was alone.

iIiIiI

"So, are we agreed?" Draco asked Professor Dumbledore the following day sitting across from him at the kitchen table.

"Most definitely," the Headmaster answered with twinkling eyes.

"Hey, Draco- oh, hello, Professor. What are you doing here?" Harry asked with a perplexed expression.

"I just could not bear to turn away another of Molly's delicious meals," the Headmaster answered promptly, picking up a roll from a steaming bowl that the plump witch sat out on the table.

Mrs. Weasley nodded in satisfaction, "Hello, Harry dear. Did you have a good night's sleep?"

"Yes," Harry answered avoiding Draco's eyes.

"There you are, Draco. It's all done," Tonks exclaimed happily walking into the room.

"What's done?" Harry asked.

Catching sight of him for the first time, Tonks faltered, "Nothing- just, stuff."

"Stuff?" Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

She was saved from answering by Remus who walked into the room and immediately hid his hands, "Oh, hello, Harry." Then, "Everyone."

"Hello, Remus," the Headmaster smiled.

"Did you finish the decor- detonations," Hermione faltered coming into the kitchen.

"The _what?"_

"Nothing, nothing at all," she said grabbing a roll and stuffing her mouth.

"Alright, what's going on?" Harry asked the room in general.

"Nothing, Harry, nothing is going on," Draco said smoothly. "You're too paranoid, sometimes, do you know that? The Headmaster came for dinner, Tonks just finished sneaking me a book on spells that she knew I didn't want you to know about, because they're a tad bit advanced. I'm sure that Remus just got back from a long day's work and doesn't appreciate you making him feel ill at ease, and Granger's crazy."

"I am _not_ crazy," Hermione turned her nose up. "I was talking about the detonation spells that Tonks was going to teach us." She turned to Harry, "It's from that book Draco asked her to get for us."

Harry nodded, "If it's dangerous, don't you think you ought to be careful?"

"Precisely what they thought you would say," Tonks said, sitting at the table. "That's why they didn't want you to know."

Harry sighed, "I'm sorry that you guys felt you had to keep something from me. I know that you are all just doing your best. Sorry, everyone."

"It's fine," Hermione answered but busied herself with filling her plate so as to not look at him.

In the next moments, the twins, Ginny, and Ron thundered down the stairs, successfully distracting everyone. Dinner carried on as a merry affair, interrupted once only by Narcissa's arrival. She and Professor Snape had gone to St. Mungo's, under glamour spells, to look into Lucius' state. After so long, progress could be seen. His skin was once again regaining the healthy glow of the living even if he had not yet come to. The Healers, though hesitant, were willing to admit that they were once again optimistic about the man's recovery. Upon hearing the news, Draco's worried face smoothed out, and he continued speaking with his mother apart from everyone in low tones, getting every last bit of information on the visit as he could. All together, it was a charming evening filled in part by their racous laughter and the sheer amount of noise the twins seemed to make. In a lot of ways, Draco couldn't help but think it was lovely. They had never had dinners like this at Malfoy Manor. Best of all, Harry was having such a good time that any residue of suspicion was forgotten amidst the friendly name calling that started around the table.

iIiIiI

"I locked the door," Harry said happily, sliding his arms around Draco's neck. "Hello."

"Hello," Draco whispered in return. "You look wonderful this evening, Mr. Potter."

"Why, thank you," Harry smiled. "Your suit makes you look dashing as well, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco spun them around and allowed his body weight to land them on the bed, "Good day?"

"Definitely."

"Good," Draco answered, feeling strangely protective that night. "I like seeing you like this."

"Like what?" Harry asked nipping playfully on Draco's fingers.

"Happy."

Harry smiled, "You make me happy."

Draco smiled in return, "You make me happy as well." He turned on his side and nestled his face in the crook of Harry's neck, "I love you."

"You're being awfully sweet," Harry noted, his left hand going to caress Draco's back with affection.

Draco looked at him, "Harry Potter, you are the best thing to happen to me."

Harry beamed, "You are the best thing to happen to me as-"

"Sorry, lovebirds," the twins interrupted, pushing past the door, George putting a hairpin in his pocket.

"Did you just pick the lock?"

"Yes."

"_Why_?"

"Woah, down there, boy," Fred grinned. "Honestly, Malfoy, you look like you have rabies or something. Anyway, we need you guys to hide a bit of merchandise for us. If mum finds it, she will confiscate it."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Put it underneath the bed."

"Knew you would understand," George grinned, sliding a box underneath the mattress. "Night, lads."

When the door finally closed, Harry breathed deeply and smiled, "As I was saying, you are the best thing to happen to me as well."

Draco leaned in for a kiss, "I think I will kill them."

"Better me than you. No one will suspect me; we can throw off the scent," Harry grinned.

"On Ron."

"Or Remus."

"Or Tonks."

"Maybe even Snape."

"Better yet, the Headmaster."

"A crime of passion?"

"No, no, socks I believe," Draco smiled.

"It was Dumbledore's favorite woolen pair," Harry laughed.

Draco pulled Harry close, "Good night, Harry."

"I love you," Harry kissed him.

Twisting an ankle around Harry's calf, Draco tucked Harry's head on his chest, "I love you too."

BOOM!

"Did that box just go off?" Draco asked staring at the ceiling.

Harry shook his head, "Just ignore it, just ignore it."

"FRED, GEORGE!" Mrs. Weasley shouted down the hall.

"SORRY, MUM!"

Harry burst out in laughter, "I love my life, I love my life, I love my life."

"Who are you trying to convince?" Draco asked with a grin.

"Myself."

iIiIiI

Hello there, my lovelies. I'm sorry to say that tomorrow I will be spending time with my family and might not get a chance to write. I hope this hits the spot, though. PLEASE REVIEW and let me know what you think. I ALWAYS APPRECIATE HEARING YOUR THOUGHTS.

Aly


	20. Chapter 20

"SHIELD UP, MALFOY!" a voice roared in a small room off the entrance of Grimmauld Place, succeeded immediately by a loud crash.

Coming into the room, Severus Snape glanced sideways and muttered, "Five Galleons on Lupin."

Looking at the stubborn set of Malfoy's jaw, Harry nodded, "Deal."

Without preamble, Draco's body was hurled across the room in response to Remus' threatening wand wave. His body slammed against a heavily ladden bookshelf on the opposite wall, tumbling down with a curse as books rained around him. The Slytherin brandished his wand and slashed the air sending a shockwave of a hex towards Lupin whose body slid several feet back when he was hit. Bent over, Lupin regained his composure and breathed out a quick curse that Draco only managed to elude by throwing his entire body to the side. The attack would not abate, however, and Remus pounded spell after spell aimed at Draco's protective shield. There was a form of unrestrained anger on Malfoy's face as he did his best to avoid being hit, and finally he reared back under the cover of an out of the way armchair and swiped Remus' legs from under him with a quick swish of his wand. Moving rapidly, Draco pelted closer; Remus threw him back but before he could do anything further, Draco shouted '_Expelliarmus,' _and tore the wand from the older man's grip. Throwing his own aside, Draco sprinted forward until both bodies crashed into each other and tumbled onto the floor in a confused heap of swinging arms, out of breath curses, and kicking legs. Gaining dominance for a moment, Draco snapped his arm back and crashed it down on Remus' face, grinning broadly as he struck the man's eye before Remus slammed his left knee onto his stomach.

Harry narrowed his eyes when he saw Draco gasping for breath and looked at Snape, "Think we should butt in?"

"I'm quite enjoying it, actually," Snape answered in a low voice. Sighing, Harry made to walk forward, stopped mid-step by the Potion Master's arm, "Honestly, Potter, use your brain."

"What do you propose we do, then?" Harry asked, annoyed. "They're kind of trying to kill each other over there."

"So over dramatic," Severus muttered in a bored tone. He brought out his wand and with a lazy swipe, he sent both of the struggling wizards flying away from each other.

Wincing at the nasty crunch with which both landed, Harry had to admit that at least Snape was being fair. Both had slammed down with equal strength; apparently no favoritism was shown when Snape thought they were both acting stupid, "Well, it's effective."

Remus stumbled to his knees and made to charge at Draco, his confused state giving Severus ample time to send thin ropes out of the end of his wand towards him, "Calm yourself, wolf. This is undignified even for someone with your- _condition_."

Draco sat up from the corner of the room and threw off a lamp that had landed on him when he fell, "Bloody fucking unbelievable."

"What happened?" Harry asked, glaring at Snape when ropes bounded Draco as well.

"Is this really necessary?" asked Draco, glowering at Snape. He turned his eyes on Harry and flicked his head to the left, "Why don't you ask your demented friend over there? I sure as bloody hell don't know what made him become a fucking lunatic."

"Language, Draco," said Snape. "No need to be crude."

"There was also no need for me to have been attacked," Malfoy glared at Lupin. "Was there Remus?"

Shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts, Remus bit out, "It got you to keep you shield up, didn't it?"

Catching the off glint in the man's eyes, Snape frowned, "You haven't taken your potion yet, have you?"

"What?" Remus asked, busy trying to get out of his bindings.

"Potter, take Malfoy. It seems your stupid pet here is dumber than I thought," Snape drawled.

Harry stepped forward and, though he took a second to glare at Snape for calling Remus a pet, he did what the Potions asked of him. Heralding Draco to the door, yet still bound, he paused and looked back, "I would like to point out that Draco got the first punch in, so that means you owe me five Galleons."

Snape considered his words for a moment, "Fine. I would like to point out that I'm the one training you in Core Magic, so that means that you can expect an especially gruelling session tomorrow."

"That's not fair," Harry frowned.

Beside him, Draco laughed, "Honestly, Potter? How thick is the cement in your brain? You actually expected Severus Snape to be fair?"

Looking at Snape's feral smirk, Harry sighed, "No."

iIiIiI

The following day, Harry woke up early to find a large owl perched on his chest. Blinking his sleepiness away, he sat up, pushing the Great Horn off gently, much to its wing flapping begrudge. He turned his body slightly, searching the nightstand for his glasses. He fished them up from within the folds of Draco's pajama shirt and stuck them on the bridge of his nose. Draco was missing beside him, the sheets on his side of the bed cool to the touch. That was odd, Harry thought with scrunched brows. Malfoy usually always waited for him to wake up or, if he had training, he would at least kiss Harry gently to say goodbye and then left him to get some rest. However, Harry wasn't aware of that having happened that morning. In fact, he had not felt Draco leave the bed at all. Shrugging it off, he concentrated on the large parcel tied to the owl's leg and released the animal of its burden. Petting it gently, he took it to Hedwig's empty cage and left it to eat, returning to the comfort of his bed so he could read the letter. The envelope and the parchment upon where the words were written was fine, expensive to the touch, and, with a smile, Harry immediately knew from whom it had come.

_Today, maybe we can play a game. You try to act like you aren't dumb enough to be on four legs, and_

_you will get your reward. First, here is a gift to give you incentive (Merlin knows you would get nowhere_

_without it, you stupid Gryffindor). Next,the second piece of parchment contains clues; find all of the items _

_and they will lead you to where you need to go. Do try to not take forever, Potter. Take off the diapers and_

_act like a big boy._

_Signed,_

_The most handsome man in the world_

Laughing, Harry looked about the bed and for the first time saw a small, gold wrapped box by his feet. He crawled towards it and opened the parcel, at first confused. It was a snitch, a beautiful gold and silver snitch, the type of which he had never seen. It had thin, decorative marks all around it that tapered off towards the elegant wings. Stamped there in thin, cursive script his name glinted up at him, unrecognizable when he took it in his hand and allowed the snitch to hover above his palm, catching it before it flew away. It was very thoughtful of Draco, no doubt, but it made no sense. Today was July 30, and his birthday was not until tomorrow. After placing the snitch back into its casing, Harry looked at the second piece of parchment and read it through carefully. It was riddled with clues, not especially tricky, that from what he could tell would lead him about Grimmauld Place. Though confused, Harry decided he was game, and so he got up, dressed, and began his journey, unease growing as he walked all over the house to find it empty of anyone else. He found small gifts littered everywhere, all Draco's, filled with all of his favorite things. He had an armful of chocolate frogs and candy, had found a Defense Against the Dark Arts text, and had come across a brand new cage for Hedwig. The list continued until finally he was led to the fireplace where a set of lavish wizarding robes hanged with a card with his name on it, a single line written below telling him his destination. It was written in Draco's handwriting, but it did nothing but leave him with more questions. Stripping, Harry grabbed the clothes and put them on, noting with surprise that the cut was tailored and fit him tightly. He threw on the traveling cloak meant to protect the clothes from the fireplace soot and stepped inside, shouting for Draco's home where he had been instructed to go.

"SURPRISE!"

Stepping through, Harry choked on the smoke, caught unaware, and was thumped heavily on the back by Ron as he tried to bring his watery eyes into focus. The room was pompously and lavishly decorated, and Harry couldn't help but think that this was all Draco's doing. It looked just like a Malfoy thing to do. He narrowed his eyes at a fluttering light, "Are those _fairies_?"

Ron followed his eyes and muttered quickly, "Uh, yeah. Hermione and Malfoy. I swear I had nothing to do with the decorations," before pushing him further into the room right into the arms of his waiting friends.

Everyone was dressed up, even Professor Dumbledore was wearing bright magenta robes and a pointed hat that on closer inspection flashed 'Happy Birthday, Harry' every few minutes. Harry accepted everyone's hugs and well wishes in a disoriented state, until everyone had come through, even Mrs. Malfoy and wished him happy birthday. Coughing awkwardly, Harry avoided anyone's eyes, especially Draco's whose were glinting with mirth, "Thanks everyone, but, ah, it's not really my birthday yet."

Draco rolled his eyes, "No way. Who would have ever thought. Of course it's not your birthday yet, you scruffy idiot. We're going to welcome it at midnight."

"Oh," Harry's eyes widened. Then a grin split his face, "You did all of this for me?"

"_Was_ this for you?" Severus Snape drawled from a corner of the room, "Here I thought it was for a hag with a bad haircut. Pity there isn't much of a difference."

Rolling her eyes dismissively, Hermione stepped through with a wide smile, "We have cake, lots and lots of cake."

They did in fact have cake, and as Hermione had put it, lots and lots of it. Not only that, there were games going on in every corner of the large living room which had been cleared of any furniture, except for a few chairs that walked about them and found anyone that needed them. In one spot, the Headmaster could be seen convincing Snape to pin the tail on the Hippogriff that once taken out of the older man's hands turned into a large, smelly bouquet of flowers that pinned themselves to surly Snape's robes. Mrs. Malfoy and Mrs. Weasley had glasses of sherry in their hands and were giggling like young girls in a corner of the room watching Remus and the twins trying to peg Mr. Weasley with balloons filled with goo that made Mr. Weasley grow hair all over his body for a few seconds before it disappeared. Ginny and Tonks kept shoving cupcakes into Harry's hands that they told him they had baked especially for today. Trying not to grimace at the slightly burned flavor, Harry had thanked them before begging Hermione to stop them from giving him any more. Draco was busy making sure everything was running smoothly and relaxed only when Hermione made him stop obsessing by sending a stream of huge neon bubbles at his face from her wand. In no time, they were all wading through them on the floor, as they resisted to pop under their weight.

It was the best day of Harry Potter's life.

"Having fun?" Draco asked him with a wide smile as he tried to flick his sopping wet hair from his eyes.

"Yes," Harry said, jumping away before a stream of water from Fred's wand caught his robes. "It's lucky you put protective spells around the house or it would be ruined."

"Fred and George are here. I didn't expect anything less," Draco said sending a jet from his own wand at the back of Hermione's had.

"Did someone say Forge and Gred?" the twins chimed in bombarding them with a double attack.

"Prepare to meet your match in us, our most evil sworn enemies!" Tonks cried followed by Ginny who let out a battle cry before both attacked the twins leaving them helpless to defend themselves.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught Snape moving to draw his wand, waving it inconspicuously sending all four of them, Ginny, Tonks, Fred, and George, slipping in a stream of water that caught them all off guard. Amidst their loud protests, Draco and Ron were laughing hysterically, trying not to slip while Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Malfoy avoided getting wet themselves. Remus turned with a calculating look towards Snape but was sent slipping away by another wave of water from the Potions Master. Clutching his hat to his head with a warm smile, Professor Dumbledore made eye contact with Mr. Weasley, giving a tiny nod that the other man seemed to understand. On the silent count of three, Mr. Weasley pointed his wand and Professor Dumbledore waved his hand, both aiming enough water at Severus to knock him off his feet. Harry had just enough time to laugh himself silly before Hermione knocked his feet from beneath him, bringing him down under a tsunami of bubbles that tasted vaguely of upsidedown pineapple cake.

iIiIiI

Hours later, Harry's cheeks ached from having laughed so hard all night and he smelled of stink bomb. Harry had been opening all of his presents when the twins had gotten carried away with the festivities and in their excitement set off more than fireworks. From the kitchen, House Elves were peering scandalized hidden behind a door. Hermione had given him a large book on magical warfare defensive tactics and to counteract her seriousness, Ron had bestowed him with a tankard of delicious butter beer. Tonks gave him a Quidditch broom care kit, Remus gave him a humongous bar of chocolate with a huge wink, Snape came forward and shoved some hand written parchment onto his chest and gruffly let him know that if he wasn't too thick, they might teach him how to push past the barriers in his training; Mrs. Malfoy had apparently collaborated with the twins and together they had all given him a large supply of joke shop supplies, and Professor Dumbledore came forward with several pairs of neon socks. In the end, everyone finished their cake well into the night and sat lazily talking about nothing for once in a very long time. Just before midnight, Hermione looked around with a significant look and one by one everyone made a particularly weak excuse and stepped through the fireplace until he and Draco were left alone. Malfoy sealed the fireplace and turned to look at Harry with a cocky look upon his face.

Harry raised his eyebrows in question, "I thought we were going to welcome in my birthday."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Potter, we _are _going to welcome in your birthday."

"But-"

"You really are an idiot," Draco smiled coming forward, sliding his arms around Harry's waist. "Have you tripped on air today? Hit your heat on the carpet? Were you attacked by your clothes, perchance?"

Harry shook his head, "You son of a troll. It's my birthday; be nice."

"Mr. Potter, it is indeed _not _your birthday. You are a dirty liar and you shall pay for that," Draco announced with a dramatic air, latching on to Harry's neck and biting down.

"Were are we going?" Harry asked as Draco backed them up.

Malfoy kissed from the corner of his mouth around the square of his jaw up to the lobe of his ear, "My bedroom."

"Oh."

"Hi."

"Hi," Harry said, blushing a tiny bit.

Draco grinned and linked their hands, dragging Harry behind him until they pushed past the closed doors into the bedroom, lit by the flickering fire in the fireplace and the various candles burning in the air. On the bed, covered by a set of startlingly white sheets an a matching comforter, an envelope laid nestled on top of the various fluffy pillows. Harry looked at Draco, "What is it?"

Pushing off Harry's robe and laying it on a nearby rococo style chair, Draco turned to him, "Your gift."

"What? But I already got all of my gifts, too many I might add," Harry said shaking his head.

"You would say that; well, it doesn't matter, Potter, nothing you say will change my mind. It's your birthday, and you can't get mad at me for giving you things. So, hush and look at it. You might actually like it, you know," Draco said, grabbing the envelope and putting his hand out for Harry to take it.

Hesitating, Harry sighed and stepped forward, "Fine, but you can't al- _Draco_-"

"Yes, that's my name," Draco agreed.

"You didn't."

"I did."

"But-"

"You like it?" Draco asked with a self satisfied smile, laying down.

"You got me the building next to Fred and George's shop," Harry said.

"Yes," Draco slipped his shirt from the top of his jeans.

"It says Potter Institute For Young People," Harry said pressing his fingers against the parchment to feel the letters.

"Yes," Draco unbuttoned his shirt and let it drop by the floor.

Harry looked up at him, "Draco, I can't-"

"Yes, you can," there was a decisive note to Draco's tone. "This is my gift to you, and you cannot refuse it."

"But-"

Draco linked his fingers below his undershirt and pulled it up, "I have another gift for you." Harry went very still, watching as smooth skin was revealed. Draco grinned, "This one you can refuse, but I'm really, _really_ hoping that you won't."

Harry laid the note carefully on the chair atop his robes and walked forward, running his fingers over Draco's skin, "Everyone's gone."

"One of my more ingenious plans and greatest accomplishments," Draco said unbuckling his belt.

"The Headmaster-"

"Wanted you to relax," Draco popped the button of his trousers and slowly pulled down his zipper, pushing off his shoes.

"And you?"

Draco dropped his pants and stepped out of them, pausing only to take off his socks, "I was kind of hoping you wouldn't quite relax just yet."

"You aren't wearing boxers," Harry said, very concentrated on Draco's belly button, traveling his hand down.

"At least we know you aren't blind."

Harry's hand wrapped around Draco making the blond's cheeks flush a sudden shade of vibrant pink, "I don't think I will refuse this gift."

"Clever Potter," Draco grinned, letting out a startled breath when Harry backed him into the bed, pushing up a knee between his legs.

Harry bent his head and took Draco's lips in his own, slipping in his tongue by distracting Draco with a particularly strong tug. Draco pushed at Harry's shirt, popping off the buttons until he could pull it off from Harry's shoulders, his left hand working hard to rid the Gryffindor of his trousers. Being undressed with such urgency made Harry's stomach flutter, and his heart gave a great thump against his chest when he found his naked front flushed against Draco's. It was like sending tiny shocks all over the front of his skin which made his toes curl in delight. Draco reversed their positions, breathing hard when he pinned Harry down wasting no time in latching on to Harry's lips before moving down, trailing his tongue to Harry's bellybutton, smiling in satisfaction when he heard the Gryffindor's breath catch. He licked his way down and closed his eyes, not believing that this was actually happening, and took the tip into his mouth, pleasantly surprised at the lack of bitter taste. Harry gave a breathy, '_Fuck_,' making Draco laugh in triumph when Harry's fingers linked into his hair, tugging him up for a kiss.

_'This is unbelievable_,' Harry couldn't help but thinking arching his back under Draco's persistent touch. They were a tiny bit clumsy, unused to such unbound intimacy and could be heard laughing when their teeth clanged together after Draco tugged on Harry without any warning. Yet, what really caught Draco's attention, besides the whole having Harry fucking Potter naked, fucking perfectly gorgeous and writhing underneath him, was that said Gryffindor would let out these tiny, breathy moans that sounded so satisfyingly _wanton_ whenever Draco ground their hips together. It was like getting a high that he could imagine nothing else would give him, a satisfying contentment as if he had finally gotten the most elusive thing in the world. It felt _wonderful_, in more ways than one. Harry seemed to agree and bit down on Draco's neck, sucking rather violently as he wrapped his legs around the blond's waist.

Rocking his hips gently, feeling as if he was burning, Draco breathed out, "If you want, I could be the one-"

"No," Harry said immediately making Draco stall with a hand to the blond's hip. He had caught the momentary fear there, and he was not a Gryffindor for nothing. Besides, he _trusted _Malfoy, if not only because he looked like a fantastically smashing carved statue above him with dark eyes and ruffled hair then because, you know, Harry _loved _the bloke. "I'll do it."

"But it's your birthday," Draco shook his head, gathering his courage, "and it might hurt despite how careful I may be. No, I will do it. I promise you, love, it is not an inconvenience. _Honestly_."

Harry grinned and went in for the kill, "You're right. It is my birthday. Shouldn't I get what I want?"

Draco nodded uncertainly.

Harry arched his hips up convincingly, "It's what I want."

"You're very persuasive," Draco said blushing, standing up to walk over to the night stand. He pulled out the top drawer and retrieved a tiny bottle which he carried carefully to the bed. Leaning between Harry's legs once again, Draco grinned, "Spread them."

"Such a gentleman," Harry laughed, instead wrapping his legs around Malfoy until he was brought forward enough to kiss. "You could ask more nicely, you know."

"Spread them, please," Draco said, grabbing a pillow to prop beneath Harry's hips. He concentrated on Harry's face as his coated fingers invaded space previously unknown to either of them, careful to pause every time he thought he saw a bit of pain flash across Harry's face. "You okay?"

Harry looked at him, "Yeah, actually. The potion feels tingly."

Draco sighed and smiled, "Good, it's working then."

"What's working?" Harry asked letting out a loud moan when Draco's fingers brushed something incredibly erotic inside of him.

Draco retraced his route, biting his lip when Harry looked at him just then, needy and so fucking, for lack of a better word, hot, "There's a numbing agent that should stop you from feeling any of the pain. Thankfully, wizarding folk are very clever and have found a way to leave the pleasure. Lucky for you, Mr. Potter, since you are about to have a very good night."

As Draco pushed inside of him, Harry couldn't help but think that Malfoy really was a very smart boy. He was very adept at finding that spot, again and again, making Harry's hips arch on their own accord as he tried to become accustomed to the mind numbing pleasure that Draco was affording him with every thrust, angled just right every time. Looking up at Draco with something close to ridiculous adoration, Harry could not believe that it had taken them so long to get here, to this place that was made even more perfect by Draco's eager hand down his front. The sex was pretty fabulous, if their mingled throaty moans were anything to go by, but what struck Harry was that the look he was giving Draco seemed to be reflected, because Draco was giving him a look that he had never seen before. It was all softness and care, and it did something to his stomach to make it drop. It was every tenderness in the world spoken in the silence by their touch. Pulling Draco down for a kiss, Harry could not believe it had taken this long to get into the dragon's heart.

iIiIiI

"You sodding git," Draco laughed the next morning as Harry attacked him with a pillow, sliding nakedly around the bed in a way that made Malfoy pay special close attention.

Harry looked at him breathlessly, "It's my birthday."

Draco lunged and pinned the giddy Gryffindor beneath him, "And?"

"And we had _sex_," Harry whispered with wide eyes as if he was telling a fabulous secret.

Blushing, Draco burst out laughing, "Yes, Potter. We definitely had sex."

"I'm sore you know," Harry raised and lowered his eyebrows lasciviously.

"Really?" Draco asked trailing a hand down Harry's front. He pulled down, "You are awfully hyper for someone who claims to be in pain."

"I am n-not in pain, Dr- Dr- Malfoy. Stop that!" Harry said batting his hand away. "It's hard to think when you do that."

"One hesitates to mock, but I remain a Slytherin. May I perhaps pronounce that you always seem to have a hard time th-thinking. Harry," Draco tried to keep his composure while Harry retaliated.

Harry kissed his lips and halted his assault, "I'm just sore; it's not bad, really. Where did you get that potion?"

Draco flushed suddenly and let him go as if he had touched something scalding, "My mother, actually. Way to kill the mood, you-"

"Wait, your _mom_?" Harry laughed, looking very embarrassed. "You mother knows that we just had our first sexual experience?"

"Well, there wasn't anyone else I could really go to, Potter," Draco said looking away. "Would you have preferred that I approach Professor Snape, or maybe Dumbledore?"

Harry stopped laughing, "Definitely not."

"I think she expects us to marry now," Draco said offhandedly. "After the war of course, so she can plan the wedding."

"Wait, what?" Harry asked.

Draco stood up and stretched, "Best get a move on, Potter. I asked for us to spend the night. If we're not back soon, I imagine they will send out the brigades."

iIiIiI

"Oh, Harry, thank God you're both home," Hermione greeted them an hour later, looking pale and as if she was close to tears.

Draco's heart sank, "What happened?"

Ron came into the living room, dragging trunks behind him. Catching sight of them, he sighed in relief, "Oh, Merlin, yes. We have to go. Dumbledore has ordered all of us to leave for Hogwarts, now."

"But why?" Harry asked watching with confusion as Mrs. Malfoy helped Mr. Weasley levitate everyone's things into the room.

"Thirteen simultaneous attacks, Harry," Lupin said coming from the library. "All over England, one only ten minutes away. Dumbledore believes that it might have something to do with Lord Voldemort knowing about our whereabouts, but no one can confirm it, not even Severus. He had only a few minutes to warn Dumbledore before the attacks were initiated. Voldemort suspects those in his ranks and did not let anyone know until everything was to be carried into motion."

"But that's impossible, no-"

"Whether impossible or not, Draco, we cannot be sure," Narcissa said urgently. "We have to do as Professor Dumbledore says. He knows what is best. I have packed all of yours and Mr. Potter's belongings. Hurry now, everyone, we should be leaving."

"Narcissa is right," Mr. Weasley said, pausing to call the twins and Ginny. "He had opened the floo directly to his office. Harry you go first; we have no time to waste."

Harry looked around and nodded, "Have any more attacks been ordered since the thirteen took place?"

"We have no more knowledge," said Lupin. "That is why it is imperative for all of us to go to Hogwarts. Hurry, now, Harry. Time is of the utmost importance."

Looking at Draco and giving him a small smile, Harry stepped through the fire and coming through, his stomach sank when Professor Dumbledore greeted him with a stern, somber expression.

iIiIiI

"Amongst the more badly hit, Hogsmead can be seen burning not far from here, Harry. We have had to offer shelter to the fleeing residents with enough presence of mind to come here. However, we believe that this might be a strategy to get glamoured Death Eaters within Hogwarts' halls. Hogwarts is a clever castle yet, and it will not allow any such persons on the grounds, though. At this very moment, members of Voldemort's army are attempting to break the charms protecting the school on the outskirts of the grounds," Dumbledore said, seated behind his desk.

"But why, Professor? Why now?" Harry asked.

"I- I believe that I finally know what Voldemort was searching for, Harry. I believe he was searching for the necklace in your pocket the day Mr. Malfoy saved you. He did not know I had discovered it and that we had destroyed it until recently. We are lucky it did not kill you that day, my boy, that it did not drive you mind mad with its curse. It was of great value to Lord Voldemort, the last of the one's he has knowingly made, aside from the snake he keeps as a pet."

"Knowingly?" Harry asked breathlessly.

Professor Dumbledore swallowed hard, averting his eyes, "I cannot know for certain what occurred the night of your parents' death, Harry, and I have kept my ideas to myself for sixteen years now, since that night. Now, however, I cannot- I cannot keep them any longer. That scar marring your skin has always been of import," Harry vaguely felt the scar tingle, but he disregarded it in favor of understanding the words coming out of the Headmaster's lips. "As you already know, it links you to him, Harry; it acts as a mark of the history you two have shared together."

"Yes, but what does that-"

Dumbledore held up his hand, "I have always found it odd, the many characteristics you possess which remind me of Tom Riddle. I have watched you closely since the start of your schooling here, and my suspicion of your scar has only grown with time. I have kept you in suspence too long, I fear, and shall say what I think outright. I believe your scar to be the last Horcrux, that on the night of your parents' death Voldemort transplanted some of himself into you, a bit of his soul into the mark upon your forehead."

Harry reached a trembling hand to his head, "N-No. It can't be."

Before the Headmaster could say anything more, the door crashed open and Hermione pushed through, her robes soaked with tears and blood, "Professor, Draco, Draco and Ron are gone."

"What?" Harry kicked his chair back in his hurry to stand.

"Where, Hermione?" Professor Dumbledore asked.

Breathlessly, Hermione pointed wildly, "The Kitchens."

Dumbledore frowned and took his wand and parted the very air, bringing Hermione and Harry close to him, saying, "Step through," before pushing them forward.

The Kitchens were in disarray, the House Elves crouched about looking at each other suspiciously as Dumbledore surveyed the area. Blood littered the floor along with food and drink, and signs are struggle were apparent in the upturned bench now by the fireside. Harry's heart slammed itself into the lower part of his throat whe they came across Ron's torn robes, ladden with blood. When the Headmaster asked the inevitable, who had done it, Hermione shook her head, shaking as she told them she had come into the room in time to see Ron and Draco being dragged into the fireplace. She had tugged on their legs, sliding on their blood but had been thrown into the far wall by a pull of magic. Yet, though she could not tell them who had done, though she didn't know, a small squeaking voice told them it did.

Dobby stepped forward and looked about him, "One of us."

"What, Dobby?" Dumbledore looked at him sternly.

"It was a House Elf; we all thought that it was Master Draco's but-"

"Dobby," Harry let out a shuddering breath.

"Dobby tried to stop him, Harry Potter, but Dobby could not attack without getting the masters hurt. When the others tried, they-"

"What, Dobby?" Harry asked.

"They were bled, and they were gone," Dobby said with wide, scared eyes.

iIiIiI

DUN, DUN, DUN! I'm sorry it has taken so long, but I didn't want this to be crap, and hopefully it's not. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! I will finish this and it will be soon, so do not be afraid. I will never abandon this story. PLEASE REVIEW! By the way, I know that some of you have posted in your reviews that you want to read my other stuff, and let me just say out right that it is complete crap. I was very young when I began writing and it is obvious in the style, grammar, and self import of my stories. Please don't waste your time. Have FUNNNNN!

Aly


	21. Chapter 21

"The House Elves," Severus Snape shook his head, pacing the small space between Professor Dumbledore's desk and the fireplace. "I can't believe we did not think of it before."

The Headmaster brought the tips of his fingers together and stared into the fire with a firm frown, "It never occurred to me that House Elves would be employed."

Pale and with heavy bruising beneath her puffy eyes, Hermione looked to Dumbledore, "Professor, could one of the House Elves here perhaps-"

"No, Ms. Granger," Snape cut her off mid sentence. "Without any form of knowledge of the family who sent them or the coordinates of where they have gone, there is no way for us to follow."

Harry hit his fist against the Headmaster's desk, "There has to be something we can do. There has to."

After they had arrived in the Kitchens, Harry and Professor Dumbledore had wrangled their way through the confused myriad of Dobby's speech as he explained to them what had happened, how Ron and Draco had disappeared. Upon arriving at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Weasley children and Draco had gone directly to the Kitchens on orders from Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Malfoy. No one had been able to have a bite to eat in the early hours of the day, rushed by the Headmaster to leave Grimmauld Place for the safety of the school. From what they gathered, the twins and Ginny had rushed their own meal in favor of bringing the grown ups an armful of muffins and croissants, eager to listen in on their conversations regarding the continued attacks being mounted by Voldemort's Death Eaters. Draco and Ron had remained alone, waiting for Hermione who was seeing their trunks into the Gryffindor common room before heading for breakfast herself. In the short time between Ginny and the twins' departure and Hermione's arrival, the entire thing had begun. A House Elf not recognized by the rest of the Hogwarts staff had apparently been working alongside them quietly, beginning on the day that Draco had taken his examinations and thought he had been seen. In fact, he had, but it had not been by the Slytherins who they had come across.

Instead, they had finally come to the startling revelation that House Elves from an unknown origin had been partaking in jobs in Hogwarts for an unspecified period of time. It was so simple and it made so much sense that everyone was shocked, completely bewildered at how it could have gone on for so long without any of the Hogwarts House Elves thinking to notify the Headmaster. However, with Draco's stint in his new quarters came his request from several of his own House Elves for food, favors, and things from his home, including the Malfoy marriage stone on Harry's finger. Though no one liked it, none of the House Elves were of the mind set to allow their discomfort with the circumstances to be known, especially not to Dumbledore. They wanted Draco to be comfortable and accepted the new additions with a grain of salt. In so doing, however, they unknowingly allowed for Draco to be poisoned and, now, captured. The Headmaster had been able to piece the puzzle together within moments of finding out what had been happening under his very nose. They could find no one in the castle responsible for poisoning Draco, because the responsible parties were able to leave Hogwarts quietly after they had done what their masters bid them.

It was clear to everyone present that someone in Voldemort's camp was responsible, that some Death Eater or Voldemort himself had found an inconspicuous way to sneak enslaved House Elves into the castle under their bidding. If no one knew what to look for, the House Elves were able to go about their business without being noticed; it was clever beyond words, the plan's cleverness lying greatly on its simplicity. Of course Voldemort had known that Draco was still alive, had managed to learn that he and Harry Potter had become something more than enemies, something more than even friends. How convenient it must have seemed to him then to wait patiently for a chance to strike, a chance to goad Harry into doing something stupid, a way to finally murder him. With no one around, Ron and Draco were free for the taking leaving behind a trail of blood that led nowhere but to a dead end. The Headmaster had questioned the entire staff, had scoured the entirety of the castle for any other signs of sabotage. He had immediately sealed House Elf access into Hogwarts and had not heeded either Harry or Hermione's warning about perhaps losing a means to find the two boys if their persecutors could not come back to lead the Order to them. Every person on the side of the Light had been warned about the threat and a meeting was to be held late into the night, when everyone could come. The Ministry had been notified, though with Fudge in charge it was merely a means to warn the wizarding world rather than to expect any help or resutls. In the mean time, no one could do anything, and the helplessness pooled heavily in the room, settling with great weight on the shoulders of the Weasleys, Narcissa, Hermione, and Harry's ruminating thoughts.

Snape regarded Harry sternly, "Whatever idiotic ideas you have coursing through your miniscule mind, stop them. You will do nothing but make things worse if you rush off like some two cent fool without any plan or sense. Potter, we have been working hard to shape you into a powerful wizard, and it will do no one any good, especially not Weasley and Malfoy, if you go and throw it all out the window. Control your emotions."

"Professor Snape is right," Hermione said softly. "We aren't alone on this one, Harry. For Ron and Draco's sakes, I think it would be best if we listened to our elders."

Harry turned to her, "Hermione, I-"

"No," she settled in an unarguable tone. "You will do nothing, Harry, because you could very well get them killed. R-Ron and Draco deserve more from us than to act without using the resources available to us. I- Harry, I _know _what you're thinking, because I'm thinking it too, but we can't allow ourselves to be the reason why this morning we might have seen them without ever having the chance to te-tell them how much-" Hermione was unable to continue and instead glanced down at her fisted hands as she swallowed convulsively to stop the tears that would do no good from coming.

"Hermione is right," said the Headmaster. "It is the reason why I called for us four to converse without the others, because I know you both and know what you would be tempted to do."

Harry pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes, "Professor-" but it led nowhere. He didn't know what to say, did not know what to do, felt nothing but the shaking of his hands against his legs and the sickening drop of his stomach when he remembered the blood splattered on the floor.

Hermione turned her attention to Snape, "Professor, excuse me for asking, but have you had any insight as to what has caused this? Has V-Voldemort called a meeting or told anyone why now of all times he would do this?"

"No," Snape shook his head. "Why precisely, I cannot tell you, though I have some guesses as I'm sure you all do. Why _now_ is easier to understand."

"What do you mean, Professor?" Harry asked looking sharply at him.

"I mean, Potter, that it is no coincidence that at this moment the Dark Lord is choosing to show everyone his power. No; he has not told anyone what the ultimate plan is, because he is waiting until it cannot go wrong. However, I can assure you that taking hostages, the children of members of the Order and of Malfoy who had betrayed the Dark Lord, not to mention _your _best friend and boyfriend, has been done with nothing but the most meticulous attention."

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed. "It is of no question that they will be used against us, but we cannot lose our heads. We will do our best to get them back, will stop at nothing until we achieve that goal. However, Harry, Hermione, we will do it together and in a thoughtful manner."

"Nothing will be kept from us, then?" Hermione asked.

"No," the Headmaster shook his head. "In fact, you will both be imperative not only for this but for the war itself."

Harry nodded and turned to Hermione, "Then there's something you need to know."

iIiIiI

"Quiet, Weasley," Draco cautioned in the dark, pausing his own movements to listen to the faint swish of a cloak somewhere above them.

Ron stopped his attempts to free himself and winced when the ropes dug into the cut on his leg, "What is it?"

Draco shook his head when he heard the retreating steps, "Nothing. I thought I heard someone coming. Are you still bleeding?"

Ron shook his head getting back to his bindings, "Not too badly. What I want to know is who did this and where the hell we are."

"Actually, I think we're in my father's home," Draco avoided Ron's eyes.

The red head went wide eyed, "You mean you father-"

"What? Weasley, no. Use your brain, man. My father is stuck in St. Mungo's; what I mean is that I recognize this part of the house. I only came down here once when I was able to sneak away from my parents and the nanny at the time," said Draco.

"But then, do you mean that You-Know-Who took over your house?"

"Yes," Draco glanced about them, searching for something sharp with which to cut the ropes. "That's exactly what I mean."

Everything had happened in a confused hurry. One second they were eating companiably waiting for Hermione and Harry, and the next a set of House Elves had attacked them. In an effort to make those loyal to Dumbledore keep their distance, Ron's leg had been cut with a wave of one of the House Elves' hands and Draco had been knocked into the far wall by the fireplace. His head had hit the stone harshly and he had scraped his cheek on the way down. No one had been able to help them, including Hermione who had shown up seconds before they were taken away. She had attempted to get near them, but they had been dragged away into the fireplace before she could reach them. One of the House Elves had shot magic at her and sent her sprawling, leaving the path clear for them to disappear.

Ron and Draco had not gone without a fight, but upon arriving in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, a cloaked and masked Death Eater had greeted them, bound them, and released the House Elves of their duty. The man had punched Ron in the face when the redhead would not quiet and finally convinced them to walk towards their holding cell without further fuss. The experience had been intimidating, both of their hearts beating extra hard and more quickly than usual, thrumming with adrenaline. For hours now they had been left alone with only the far off sounds of scuttling feet as any indication that they weren't completely alone.

"Alright," Ron began strategizing. "First of all, how spoiled rotten can you be? A _nanny, _honestly, Malfoy," he said making Draco grin. "Secondly, we still have the advantage. If we can manage to get out of here, then you will be the only person in the entire house who can get us out of here the fastest."

"Brave but stupid, Weasley," Draco shook his head. "There's no way we will be able to get out of here. Guards will be sent down here, even if they aren't here to stay. Obviously, no one thinks we're smart or dangerous enough to warrant round the clock watch. Without our wands, they might be right. However, we have something they don't know about."

"What's that?"

"My mother's lucky family inheritance," Draco inclined his head. "I have a photographic memory."

"What good will that do us?" Ron frowned.

"Stop your grunting, caveman," Draco hushed him. "We can't get out without our wands, and we can't make any noise, _but _there's something here that might be able to help us."

"What is it?" Ron asked watching him concentrate.

Draco's eyes roamed the room past the bars, up to the far left in the ceiling, "There."

Ron turned his head to look, "What?"

"I remember coming as far as just past this cell, and I noted something strange on the ceiling. See my father has this strange obsession with our home; he likes everything to be perfect, a show of our wealth and social standing. I found it odd, then, that he would allow two faint lines to mark a spot without having it immediately corrected," said Draco.

Ron squinted in the dim light of a burning torch in the wall furthest to them, "I can't see anything."

"That's because I imagine it drove him crazy. During that time we had been visited on and off by a set of foreign wizards, very sketchy, who disappeared for hours and then left. However, I saw one of them come out of nowhere just from below the dining room. I think they created a secret compartment big enough to fit several grown wizards," Draco said rubbing his hands together to see if he could get one through. No luck.

Ron shook his head, "But why would your father want another secret compartment? I mean, your house is ancient. It must be riddled with spaces no one but people in your family know about."

"Ron," Draco said significantly, "your face reminds me of a rat's ass. Also, it was just before the start of our Fourth Year. My father knew something was beginning, something very important with regard to the war. For one reason or another, I think my father believed it a good idea to create a safe place for his family if something went down. It makes sense if you think about it. I'm sure he knew that the Dark Lord would eventually grace our home. Slytherins by nature will double cross, Weasley. Now, I don't imagine my father would look to double cross the most dangerous wizard in recent history, but I do imagine that he trusted him only as much as my father ever trusts anyone, which is not at all."

"So you think-"

"I think," Draco looked around to make sure no one was coming and lowered his voice, "I think that if we can somehow get out of our bindings, overpower our captor, get his, or even better, our wands back, then we can try and get into the room. No one will know of it; of that I'm sure."

"How can you be positive?" Ron asked, green with pain and the idea of what it seemed they were going to try to do.

Draco swallowed, "I- alright, not _sure_, then, but it's our best guess."

Ron nodded, "It's the best we've got. By the by, at least I don't look constantly like a constipated prat, just saying."

iIiIiI

"You- you're a _what_?" Hermione's face had lost it's color, her eyes wide with shock.

Harry closed his eyes, avoiding looking at Remus, Narcissa, and the Weasley parents. Snape had been informed earlier by Dumbledore and looked unmoved in a corner; it seemed only Hermione was able to draw breath to string words together, "Please don't ask me to repeat it again."

Remus stepped forward, preventing Hermione from saying anything further, "What's the plan, Headmaster?"

Professor Dumbledore nodded, all business, "As of twenty hours ago, Lord Voldemort dropped out of our radar; I mean, he completely disappeared. Severus has not been called since then and even if he were, we would probably have no idea of his whereabouts if he conducts the meeting indoors. If he does, Severus, please take note of the architecture, or the furnitures, the style and approximate time they were made. We have to take everything into account. That being said, Severus believes that Ron and Draco are being held in one of the major Death Eater's homes."

"What makes you think that?" asked Mr. Weasley, ashen faced.

Severus stepped forward, "It will be an honor bestowed on whoever secured them. However, I have also expressed that I think that it is also likely they are being held in Malfoy Manor."

"But," Narcissa shook her head, "my husband is in the hospital, and there is nothing there for them. Why would they-"

"To shame you," Severus said pursing his lips.

"Alright," Harry interjected. "We think they are at Malfoy Manor. Now what? What are we going to do?"

Professor Dumbledore's eyes strayed to Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Malfoy before straying away, "Now we bide our time."

"What?" Harry jumped out of his chair.

"Potter, the place is crawling with Death Eaters. I need more time to figure out where and when they will be placed at their stations," Severus said.

Hermione shook her head and said shrilly, "They don't have time."

Mrs. Weasley took in a shuddering breath, putting her hand against her chest, "Professor, that is my child."

"Molly," Dumbledore looked upon her kindly.

"No," Mr. Weasley put his hand upon his wife's shoulder. "You are right, Headmaster. We do this right."

iIiIiI

"It's about every forty-five minutes," Draco said under his breath, watching a Death Eater disappear up the stairs.

They had been timing the number of times they were checked upon, hours after their arrival in to Malfoy Manor. Neither had watches and without their wands, they had no other way to really know how long they were taking. However, they had been able to figure out that Death Eaters came at least once within the space of an hour. Thirty minutes was too short, and sixty minutes did not sit right with Ron. He insisted that it was too long, sure that they were looked to sooner than that. This was the fourth time now since they had started counting, and Draco finally agreed with him. They both knew that what they were going to do was stupid, but it didn't change the fact that if they attempted nothing, they were both probably dead.

"Okay," Ron said glancing around the room. "There's nothing here that's going to help us knock him out."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Thanks for the good news, Weasley."

"What I mean, Malfoy," Ron glared at him, "is that we are going to have to get the bloke close enough to the cell so we can somehow overpower him."

"Hmm, alright," Draco cocked his head. "There's this slight problem, you see. We are currently fucking roped."

"Thanks for that," Ron rolled his eyes. "Look, we have forty-five minutes to figure this out. If one of us can get free, we can do this. If we can't knock the Death Eater out by force, then we have to get to his wand."

Draco nodded, "Alright."

Ron shook his head looking down at his still bound hands, "This would be so much easier with Hermione here."

Draco grinned.

"No, not- shut up, Malfoy. She's brilliant; she would be able to get us out of this."

"Well, we're lucky Harry isn't here," Draco said, his face going slightly harder. "He would be dead the moment he walked here."

"They will figure it out," said Ron. "We just have to stay alive long enough for them to find us."

"Right, then," Draco said, scooting forward. "Let me see your hands; maybe I can undo the bindings."

iIiIiI

"Are you ready?" Draco asked, breathless. He was having a hard time drawing in breath, what with the anticipation bubbling in his belly and the horror of knowing that if they fucked this up they were as good as dead.

Ron looked a little green, but he nodded, "Yeah."

"There," Draco said quietly watching the cloaked figure walking towards the. "Oh, shit."

"_Fuck_," Ron said; it was a woman. They had sent a woman to check upon them. His thoughts were becoming a little fantric with this revelation. Of course, he was willing to do whatever it took to keep both himself and Draco alive, but to attack a woman was- it was something he had never expected to have to do.

Shaking his head to clear it, Draco proceeded with the plan, making sure to avoid Ron's eyes so that he would not lose his nerve, "Excuse me. Excuse me. Could you please tell me where we are?"

The witch came closer, shining her wand on them, "Shut up."

"Well, that's not very nice," Ron frowned standing up.

The woman pushed her wand beneath his neck and pressed it down, hard, "I said shut up."

"And I say you are a very stupid woman," Draco said, bringing his arms around and letting the loose ropes drop. Kicking off, he rushed to the bars and hung on to the woman, pushing his hand on her mouth to stop her from screaming out for help.

At the same time, Ron grabbed the wand, catching her unaware and stunned her, stepping back with a wide eyed look when she crumpled to the floor. He turned to look at Draco and let out a laugh too shrill in the echoing, empty dungeons, "That just worked."

Draco nodded, "Unbelievable. Come on; we have to get out of here, fast. It won't be long before they figure out something is wrong."

"Malfoy, leave your robe behind."

"Why?" Draco asked, already taking it off. They had not time to lose.

"I can transform them and put a temporary glamour charm that will make it like you're laying down and we can glamour her to look like me. It will buy us time," said Ron, heaving the stunned woman into the small cell after bewitching the door open.

Draco watched in silence as Ron worked and sighed with relief when it was over, an extra stunning charm in place to make sure that the witch stayed put. They hurried to the end of the hall where Draco took out the wand and aimed it at the ceiling, where the smooth surface cracked. He sliced his finger open with a grimace and sent the gush of blood up with the wand. There was no way that his father had not put a blood charm to make sure that no one but a Malfoy got in. With a smirk of triumph, he watched as a small silver ladder came down silently. He scampered forward and started climbing, helping Ron up through the small opening when Weasley came in through the trap door. Draco put his finger down on the door and dashed the blood on it, watching with anxious happiness as the floor became solid once again, completely hiding them from their captors. Glancing at Ron, he was not surprised to see the redhead shaking.

"We did it," Ron said as if he didn't believe it. "I was sure there was more chance of me getting a diamond than doing this."

"Wait a minute," Draco said, plunging his hand down into the pocket of his pants. "After Harry and I-"

Ron made a face and held up his hand, "I don't want to know about your sordid affairs with my best mate."

"No, you idiot," Draco said, ignoring him. He threaded his fingers through the necklace and put it on, watching it shine once it hit his skin, "We were in a hurry to get back to Grimmauld Place and I stuffed it in my pocket. Weasley, Harry has one just like it, and I _know _he has it on." He grinned and kept on, "You know, because we fucked."

"Oy," Ron said going scarlet.

Draco laughed, "Weasley, this might just be our ticket out of here. However, we have to keep calm for a bit. Harry can't just come here without some type of plan or help from the others, which is exactly what will happen if the necklace thinks I'm in mortal danger."

"Not to be a downer," Ron said, sitting down on the cold floor of the small room, completely bereft of anything but a series of potions and magical objects, "but we are in mortal danger."

iIIiIiI

Harry clamped his hand on the necklace as soon as he felt it burn against his skin, "Professor!"

They were all centered around Dumbledore's desk, planning. They had it all set out, knew the formations that would help them, Hermione proving to be surprisingly helpful and clever. The atmosphere around the room was tense and worried, everyone doing their best to keep calm. Mrs. Weasley was having a harder time than all of them, scrunched in a corner doing her best to calm down. Draco's mother, however, was steely and concentrated on doing her best to get her son back. If they were in Malfoy Manor, there was no one that knew the mansion better than she did. It was now one o'clock in the morning, and dark bruises were beginning to stain everyone's faces. Yet, no one seemed willing to give up. They had no idea what was happening to the boys, and Harry's stomach kept clenching every time that he thought about what could be happening to them. The necklace burning, however, was the first sign that they were still alive.

Professor Flitwick looked at Harry and turned to Dumbledore, "Headmaster, I can get whoever wears that necklace to its companion. However, depending on the distance, I may not be able to get them back here. Without another necklace to tie them together, it will be like fishing in an ocean."

Snape glanced apprehensively at the Headmaster who was busy doing some quick thinking, "Professor, what if one of the Death Eaters managed to-"

"No," Harry interrupted him. "Draco put the necklace in his pocket this morning. I really doubt that someone was going to go fishing through his things looking for jewelry of all things."

Narcissa stepped forward, "We could give you a Portkey."

"No," Dumbledore shook his head. "Portkeys take time, time which we do not possess."

Tiny Professor Flitwick shook his head sadly, "I cannot promise that I can get them back here."

"No," Hermione said, then turned her attention to Professor McGonagall, "but you can."

"What could you possibly mean, Ms. Granger?"

Hermione pulled Narcissa to her side, "Professor, remember what you told us, that if you have genetic of physical markers for someone or something, it becomes much easier to do magic on them, because it forces your own magic to concentrate on changing those particular markers."

"Yes, but-"

"Why can't that apply to Apparating them back here?" Hermione asked excitedly. "We have Mrs. Malfoy, who has fifty percent of Draco's genetic information, and we have Ron's parents. As for Harry, the necklace has recognizable and unique physical magical characteristics."

Professor McGonagall had gone pale but at Professor Dumbledore's questioning glance, she gave a stiff nod. They gathered around the desk once again, debating in low heated tones what was about to occur. Obviously Harry had to go, but he could not go alone. As they argued over each other to get their points across, Snape rolled his eyes and gathered his robes around himself. "I will go," he said with a finality to his voice that quieted everyone down. "I will go," he repeated watching Harry as the Gryffindor stood and threw his shoulders back, ready.

iIiIiI

"Harry!" Draco gasped when a sound like a vacuum sucking air through a straw startled them, stopping only when Harry and Severus had been slammed into the ground in front of them.

Harry rushed forward and threw his arms around Draco, his fingers shaking as he clung on to the back of the blond's shirt before moving and going to Ron who looked absolutely horrible. They had been too afraid to heal the cut without making sure that it was clean. Draco was no mediwizard and knew only crudely how to heal a wound from the times he had been in the Hospital Wing, and Ron knew even less. They had stemmed the flow of blood with Ron's shirt, which was bunched up around his thigh, a deep crimson color staining the white.

Snape stumbled to his feet and rushed to Ron, "We have to move quickly and get you out of here."

Ron looked at his hand strangely, feeling a rippling sort of tickling along the tips of his fingers. Before he could get a word in, Snape had gathered him forward and they were vanishing with the same sucking sound bouncing around them.

Draco crashed his lips against Harry's and thrust his tongue into the Gryffindor's mouth, "I'm so glad you're here."

Harry pulled back and looked at him, stroking Draco's cheek, "Are you okay?"

"No, but I will be," Draco responded, pushing his body against Harry's.

Snape suddenly appeared once again, looking grim, "Alright, go. Both of you."

Harry frowned, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Potter. You're wasting time. Go now."

"What about you?" Draco asked. "Are you going to Apparate after us?"

Snape gave him a steely gaze, "You are wasting time, Draco. Your necklaces will be called back any moment."

Even now Harry could feel the familiar tug at the end of his belly button. Something was wrong. Snape wouldn't be able to get back without Draco or a necklace. He couldn't Apparate directly to Hogwarts and Death Eaters were stationed around the school's perimeter, ready to take him the moment he showed up. The man had been so kind in coming, Harry could not- he could not do this to him. Kissing Draco one last time, Harry pushed the blond into Snape's arms and tore his necklace, thrusting it in Snape's hand, hearing Draco yell out a strangled, "NOOOOO!" before they were gone.

Staring down at this shaking hands, Harry was left alone.

iIiIiI

Sorry about the long wait. This one was hard, because it has to move the plot along. I hope you like it. I also took the time to write the first chapter of a new story, a MARCUS FLINT/ HARRY POTTER story. If you like Draco/ Harry, I promise you will like this one. It's a little more naughty and explicit than this one, which you will see off the first chapter. Okay, it's way MORE EXPLICIT. It's called Kind Of An Accident! PLEASE READ MY NEW ONE AND REVIEW. I PROMISE YOU WILL LIKE IT. REVIEWWWWWWWWWW!

Aly


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